


Actual Disney Prince(ss)

by MaraSenpai1997



Series: Happily Ever After? [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Awkward, Cheesy, Confessions, Crushing, Disney Songs, F/F, Getting Together, Hugging, Implied drinking, Love Confessions, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Theatre, soul marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraSenpai1997/pseuds/MaraSenpai1997
Summary: As the male lead in a popular musical and being called a Disney Prince, Emil Nekola is pretty much living his dream at the age of twenty-four. But, it seemed that despite his best attempts, his soulmate was nowhere to be found. And it wasn't like his soul mark made much sense either. Emil thought that it would make finding his soulmate  easier , yet there seemed to be no-one was planning on saying  'Hey, my sister is off limits!'  to him.
Michele Crispino never bothered to find his soulmate, all that mattered to him was getting those filthy men of his little sister. He's content with his life as an aspiring actor and singer while tending the bar of his parents coffee café. But when the chance arise that his secret idol Emil Nekola could be his soulmate, it seems his calm and collected life is thrown in disarray. Is he ready to throw his peaceful life away to chase after a possible soulmate?





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two possible soulmates meet and more chaos ensues that's necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coffee shop... it always makes me giggles when I read that. If you're saying to me that you're going to a coffee shop, I think you're going to do drugs. (Welcome to the Netherlands). Hence why I call it a Coffee café. It isn't like they serve real food, but I just can't handle the word coffee shop.
> 
> This a quick, just for fun, fic. There is no outline, nor is there a solid ending yet. Though I doubt I'll make it too long, as I don't want to burden myself too much. It's also poorly edited, as I didn't want to stress too much on that aspect, as I just wanted to have fun writing. Later on, I'll look trough it again, hopefully. Probably once I finished the fic.
> 
>  **Edit:** Quick change in the summery as I made a stupid mistake.

Pushing up his set of fake glasses, Emil glanced around the street, checking if anyone recognised him. He wasn’t a Hollywood-celebrity level of famous, but his face had been on plenty of billboards none the less, promoting the musical where he played the lead most of the time. And while he enjoyed the fame, some peace and quiet was required if he wanted to keep his sanity. He needed it to shrug off the stress of a long week of practising, revising and performing. The biggest strain had been put on his vocal cords, who were in dire need of some rest.

 

Thankfully, in this small village, barely anyone batted an eye at him. Pushing his numb fingers further into his pockets, Emil ran his eyes across the shop signs, hoping that he would come across a coffee café sooner or later. The cold made him crave a hot beverage, one he could warm his cold hands against. And maybe he could find _him_.

 

Though, Emil wasn’t sure if his soulmate was a male, it was just a feeling. It would make sense, at least, seeing as what his soul mark was. _Hey, my sister is off limits._ It wasn’t the most flattering soul mark, Emil had to admit that, but it was his and those were the first words his soulmate would ever utter to him, probably in a frantic trying to ward him off his sister. Yes, it could be a female, but this felt more like a brother protecting his sister.

 

In search of his soulmate, he had earned himself the reputation as a Casanova. He had ‘flirted’ with plenty of girls, though it came naturally to him to be nice to people. He had gotten reactions out of men, some protective, some cold-hearted and others slightly confused. But only a few had come close to what his soul mark read, but not close enough. No-one ever had spoken those exact words to him.

 

Spotting a cosy looking coffee café, Emil made a beeline to it, his hands itching to wrap themselves around a warm cup of Hot Chocolate. And of course, there was always the prospect of meeting his soulmate, though his endless search had been fruitless up until now. And today probably wasn’t his lucky day, just like the previous day, or the day before that or the day before that. He hadn’t been successful in his search for his soulmate, which had started four years ago. And it wasn’t like he never left the house. His career as a theatre artist made him able to travel a lot, meeting a lot of people. Yet, luck wasn’t on his side.

 

Pushing open the door of the coffee café, Emil was greeted by the sweet scent of peppermint, chocolate and a draft of warm air. The inside was small but very cosy looking. A few of the tables were occupied by what looked like students, cramming for the last few tests before the December holidays. He pitied them, recognising the horrors that came with college.

 

Casually walking over to the counter, Emil was greeted by a youthful face. Dark olive skin, bright violet eyes that shimmered in the fairy lights and black hair tied together in a bun. There was, however, no sign of a male co-worker, which meant he ran out of luck, again.

 

“Welcome at Crispino’s café, what can I do for you today, sir?” her voice was bright, chipper and welcoming, making Emil smile a bit brighter. Why did his soulmate have to be a grumpy older brother or sister and not just a kind girl?

 

“A large, Hot Chocolate please,” Emil ordered sheepishly, scratching his stubbly chin awkwardly. For his leading role, he had to shave. He hadn’t been too happy about that in the beginning, he liked his facial hair. But he hardly could turn down a leading role solely because he had to shave.

 

“With or without whipped cream?” the barista asked, penning down the order.

 

Already embarrassing himself with the childish order, Emil decided to go all the way. The layers of clothes he had to wear for his role surely could hide his love handles, and otherwise, it would only add to the appeal of his childish character.

 

“Go all-out,” Emil grinned. “The sweeter, the better.”

 

The barista, whose name was Sara according to her nametag, chuckled as she finished noting down his order. “And your name?”

 

“Aemilius,” Sara’s face grew blank briefly before she frowned and started to pen down his name- well, his undercover name. Thankfully his parents had just called him Emil. “Emil is fine too,” he grinned, offering Sara a polite smile. “Aemilius is a bit mouthful.”

 

The woman returned his smile, relief evident in her violet eyes. She corrected his name and ripped the note out of the scratchpad. As it wasn’t very busy, Emil got the opportunity to have an enjoyable conversation with Sara, who obviously had noticed that he wasn’t her soulmate. Her reaction probably would have been different. He had met plenty of people who met their soulmate on a whim, which resulted in the most embarrassing and awkward situations Emil had the chance of experience- and he had been part of the _drama club_ in high school. He had come across plenty of awkward situations.

 

Emil told her the reason for her visit, at least the made-up version of his story, and Sara told him a bit about herself and the café. It went well, till another employee emerged from the back. A male, almost identical to Sara look-wise. The same olive skin, pretty violet eyes and an overall handsome face. It seemed that their family had won the gene lottery. The only difference was that he had brown hair. A new flare of hope clouded his mind. A brother, or at least a relative - and it looked like Emil himself was flirting with Sara. And her relative surely didn’t know yet that they weren’t soulmates.

 

“Hey,” the relative snarled, glaring at Emil, his eyes flashing dangerously. “My sister off limits.”

 

Emil feel completely silent. _Answer_ his mind screamed, his skin burning feverishly. He could be wrong, maybe this wasn’t his soulmate. But he needed to answer, speak to him, tell him his first words. The man’s reaction would be enough to know whenever he was Emil’s soulmate or not.

 

His prepared reply, one that was silly, out of context, but it made him easier to identify, died on his lips as Sara started to yell back at her relative, her eyes spitting fire.

 

“Mickey, behave yourself,” she yelled, a murderous glare on her pretty face. “He’s a customer.”

 

Sara’s brother was glaring, though his glare wasn’t addressed to Sara. Instead, his violet eyes were staring down Emil, who grew more uncomfortable as the time passed by. “Sure... I saw the way he was talking to you,” the man snapped, causing Emil to slightly flinch.

 

He wasn’t sure if he wanted this guy to be his soulmate.

 

 “He’s not my soulmate if you think that,” Sara returned coldly. “The words don’t match.”

 

Mickey kept on glaring, slightly frightening Emil, but there was some sign of defeat. “Fine,” he eventually growled, taking a seat that had been invisible from sight. “But I’ll keep an eye on him.”

 

Emil was mentally kicking himself for not talking at all. This was the opportunity to maybe meet his soulmate of all things! The person he had been looking for since he graduated college and started to act. But he also realised the fear others must feel. What if this guy wasn’t his soulmate, or what if he _was_ his soulmate. Up until now, Mickey had done nothing else than glare at him, judging him from his seat behind the counter.

 

Shaking off the slight tremor her brother had left behind, Sara finished up his drink and handed it to Emil.

 

Grabbing his wallet, Emil waited for Sara to announce the price of his Hot Chocolate. It surely wouldn’t be cheap, though it probably wasn’t as pricey as Starbucks. He wasn’t low on cash, but even his wallet moaned by the thought of visiting Starbucks too often.

 

“It’s on the house,” Sara said, a faint hint of guilt in her voice. “After what Mickey had done, it at least should serve as an apology.”

 

Emil shook his furiously, gripping his wallet tighter. “Don’t worry, I’ve had plenty of encounters with pissed-off brothers, this isn’t anything new,” Emil vaguely gestured to a grumpy looking Mickey. “Please just let me pay- I've not strapped for cash anyway, and I can’t let you go bankrupt only because I have a tendency of pissing off brothers.”

 

A loud snort came from Mickey’s direction, but Emil didn’t bother to look. The brother was undoubtedly still glaring him down, probably formulating a murder plan. Maybe he could team up with all the other male relatives Emil had managed to piss off. Though, most of them held no longer a grudge against Emil after he had explained himself, often having to show off his soul mark to make them believe.

 

Sara smiled, though it was somewhat forced, and eventually let Emil pay. Carefully sorting out the Dollar bills, Emil managed to lay out the money, including the expected tip. He still wasn’t used to paying with Dollars. Euro’s went well by now, as they toured a lot in Europe, but Dollars still confused him.

 

“Not from around here?” Sara asked casually, handing him his Hot Chocolate and putting away the money.

 

“Europe,” he almost had replied the Czech Republic, but he realised that he shouldn’t give away too much information. He wasn’t ready to have a group of rabid reporters after his ass, even as the publicity was good for his career. It was his day off, so he wanted to enjoy it.

 

A new customer had entered the shop, giving Emil a proper excuse to leave his barstool and grab a table, away from Mickey’s judgemental glare. He, however, couldn’t get far before there was the scraping of a chair against wood and a very calculated Mickey walking to him.

 

“Take your glasses off,” Mickey ordered, his violet eyes squinted in concentration.

 

_His glasses_? If he questioned Mickey about it, it inevitably would cause some friction between them. And, to be frank, he wasn’t in the mood to piss off Mickey any further.

 

Mentally slapping himself, Emil reminded himself to squint if he took off his glasses. He was far-sighted, at least in his disguise. And as long as Mickey wasn’t asking to try his glasses, he wouldn’t know that Emil was faking the whole thing.

 

“Sure,” Emil mumbled and took off the fake pair of glasses.

 

Squinting as he faked to struggled to see well, he placed the spectacles on the counter, neatly folded. Folding his own arms, Emil waited for Mickey to react.

 

“I knew I recognised you,” Mickey muttered, his face leaning awfully close to Emil’s. “Emil Nekola.”

 

The bar fell quiet, and Emil noticed that multiple eyes were staring at him. How did they all know his name? Or was it the tension? But that seemed unlikely, as nobody had batted an eye at them when Mickey had been raging.

 

“ _The_ Emil Nekola,” Michele whispered, his voice in slight awe. Immediately, the quiet atmosphere shattered.

 

Emil knew that the best way to handle this was smile kindly, admit that you were that person, probably hand out a few autographs and then leave as fast as possible before the paparazzi arrived. But with his brain in disarray, the possibility that he had met his soulmate occupying his thoughts, Emil did the thing he shouldn’t have done. He snatched up the pair of fake glasses, clutched his messenger bag to his chest and bolted right out the door. He could live without his Hot Chocolate- it was only a small loss of money.

 

~*~

 

Ushering the last customers out the café, Michele couldn’t wait for the day to be over. Rubbing his tired eyes, he sat down on one of the seats, muffling his yawn. He was expecting Sara to start scolding him soon, she had been throwing him murderous looks ever since Emil had bolted out of the door after all.

 

“You’re a complete idiot,” there she goes. Groaning under his breath, Michele got himself comfortable in the seat as this was going to take a while.

 

“First of all, you're rude to customers, again,” he didn’t even bother to listen. He had heard this part of her lecture so many times that he knew them by heart. “You know that I can handle myself perfectly well, I know what my soul mark is, and that defiantly wasn’t ‘A large, Hot Chocolate please’, my soul mark isn’t an order, remember.”

 

To add to her argument, Sara lifted up a part of her shirt, showing off her soul mark. _You’re with him?_ it read in golden letters. “See,” she scolded, pointing to the three words. “Does this match up?”

 

Sighing, Michele shook his head. He knew what Sara’s soul mark was, yet he couldn’t help but feel protective over her. Some people didn’t care about soulmates, they flirted with his sister because she was pretty and single. She, just like him, still had to find her soulmate.

 

“Secondly,” Michele showed her sister some more interest, knowing that this was the new part of her lecture. “You met your _idol,_ and you exposed him, while he clearly had a day off and didn’t wanted to be noticed.”

 

Flinching at the word idol, Michele looked down, taking an interest in his worn-out sneakers. Yes, he idolised Emil Nikola. He had a few posters of Emil in his room, though Emil shared the canvas with fellow actors of his musical. And maybe, he had seen a few of Emil’s musicals, and maybe even had tickets for an upcoming one.

 

The Czech was younger than him by four years, yet Emil had managed to become a lead in one the most successful musical of this day and age. Not only that, the man was a great singer, earning himself the title _Actual Disney Prince_ , though, each time he had heard Emil sing, _Princess_ seemed to be a better fit. Emil could charm anyone with his beautiful voice, adorable smile and overall very polite manner.  

 

And there you had Michele. Michele runs the café together with his sister, after taking it over from his retired parents. In his free time, he spends practising acting and singing, but he surely wouldn’t make a career out of it, something Emil did. He would love to, but he simply wasn’t good enough.

 

“Well, sorry,” he answered eventually, sounding rather bored. “I’m not sure how to handle _such_ situation. How could I know that the guy flirting with you was also my _idol_ ,” Sara seemed far from impressed.

 

Sara paced around for a bit, before eventually grabbing a chair and took a seat oppose him. Her expression had grown dangerous, and Michele realised that there was more going on that he had realised.

 

“Do you even realised what is going on?” before he even could reply, she gave him a disappointed look. “Of course you don’t,” she muttered. “Remember what your soul mark is?”

 

A confused, questioning expression pained Michele’s face. “Sure,” Michele felt his soul mark itch, be he refused to scratch it. “That’s it. Sure.”

 

Sara nodded. “Yes, and what was the first word Emil said to you?”

 

_Oh_. The first word Emil had uttered to _him_ was, of course, _sure_. Was faith playing games with him? He met his idol, managed to chase his idol away and now Sara was saying Emil could possibly be his _soulmate_.

 

“Are fucking with me?”

 

“Language,” Sara scolded. “And no. Actually, I think it’s quite likely, looking at the way he reacted.”

 

Michele pulled a _try me_ expression and impatiently waited for Sara to explain herself. She surely was just exaggerating things, probably wants to get him a boyfriend so he would be out of her hair.

 

“For starters, he was clearly shocked by the first words you uttered him. This could also be the result of you snapping him all of the sudden, so this isn’t saying much, but-” Sara glared at him as soon as he had parted his lips to protest. “He later mentioned that this often happens, that he has the tendency of pissing off brothers.”

 

“So?” he defiantly wasn’t getting his hope up. “So he’s clearly a heartbreaker, not caring about soulmates. I mean, he was clearly flirting with you.”

 

“Then why was he so specific about brothers?” Michele’s triumphant smile faltered, realising what Sara was implying. It wasn’t hard to recall what he had said to Emil- he had said it to so many people.

 

_Hey, my sister is off-limits!_ It wasn’t Sara’s name, or _she_ , he had used _my sister_. This was very, _very_ specific. Slowly, to his terror, he started to believe that there might be a possibility that Emil was his soulmate. Though, maybe it was just Sara getting to his head. There was in no way possible that they were soulmates, someone as awesome as Emil with some as average as him. Yet, it wasn’t unheard off...

 

“We should clean up,” Michele said abruptly, brushing off imaginary crumbs. “ _I_ have tomorrow's morning shift, and you know perfectly well how early that one starts.”

 

Ignoring Sara’s protests, Michele began to stack the chairs on the tables, trying to distract his thoughts. But all that was clouding his mind was Emil. The man’s adorable smile, the man’s overall handsome face, especially without that stupid beard. Why did his possible soulmate have to be his _idol_ , especially the idol he was _crushing_ on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a native English speaker, reader or writer, so bear with me.
> 
> Comments are very appreciated as they're often the highlight of my day. Constructive criticism and pointing out mistakes is also very welcome, as I want to grow as a writer. (And like mentioned before, this is pretty un-betaed. There are probably a few horrible mistakes)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emil reflects last night's bad choices and he catches up with his co-stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited the previous chapter and this chapter. I hope I didn't murder anyone's characterization. (Probably did). Will probably come back for another round of editing later.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kind comments! The brighten my day and motivate to write more. (And helps me finding stupid mistakes, because oh gosh there were some terrible mistakes.)

Emil regretted the choices he made last night. After what seemed to be a disastrous visit to a coffee café, Emil had decided to rope a few of his fellow actors in spending the night with him. This was mainly binge watching Disney musicals, eating a lot of unhealthy food and drinking too much stale tasting beer. After several noise complaints that they were singing too loudly, the group had split up, each returning to their own hotel room. The day after resulted in an ill-feeling stomach and a not overly kind hangover.

 

Eyeing his alarm with bleary eyes, Emil’s mind reeled, comprehending what had woken him up. If he had to believe his alarm, he had still two more hours to sleep in, before he had to start his long morning routine. Despite that his alarm wasn’t ringing, there was defiantly a blaring sound that echoed through his hotel room. His cell? No, he knew what his ringtone was. Was there a door bell? No, not as far as he knew. The people of the hotel would call up to him if there was someone who wanted to see him... of course! The landline.

 

Cursing his headache, Emil threw his wobbly legs over the edge of his bed. The soft carpet cushioned his bare feet, but he noticed the cold chill almost immediately. How much was he wearing anyway? He didn’t recall what he had put on before he had landed face-first in bed.

 

Throwing the blanket off him, Emil felt the chill run up his spine. Ah, it was just his trusty, old underwear. Maybe not the best fit for the winter.

 

Picking up an abandoned sweater, Emil stumbled to the phone and accepted the call.

 

“Mr Nekola?” the friendly voice of the receptionist came through the worn speaker.

 

“Ah, yes, that’s me,” Emil stuttered, trying to wiggle his arms into his sweater while keeping the phone right at his ear.

 

“Sir, there is a guest for you. She said that her name is Sara Crispino and she told me she knows you, should I send her up or...”

 

Switching the receiver to his other ear, Emil managed to put on his sweater properly. However, the firm smell of sweat greeted him, make him almost wanting to throw up last night’s bad decisions of in garlic drenched chips and a bucket of spicy chicken wings.

 

“Sara Crispino?” he eventually managed to croak out, clutching his upset stomach.

 

Ah, Sara Crispino, the barista from the coffee café he had visited the previous day. How did she found him? And why? Panic struck his stomach, making him almost dash for the bathroom. What if she wanted more? How to explain that Emil somewhat flirted with her to make her _brother_ react like that?

 

With the words of reject on the tip of his tongue, Emil realised that he was doing exactly what his mother had warned him for. Not talking with people he had issues with. Running away like a frighten, sixteen-year-old teenager. He at least had to confront the situation.

 

“Let her come up,” he breathed, dropping the receiver back on the place where it belonged.

 

Knowing it would take Sara at least a solid five minutes to get up to his floor and find his room, Emil decided to take his sweet time preparing on seeing her again. So, first, toilet. If he had time left, he could consider putting on clothes.

 

When someone was knocking on his door, Emil still hovered over the toilet, his stomach emptier than his bank account during college. But he at least didn’t felt like throwing up at any given moment.

 

“Coming!” he yelled, getting back on two feet. Picking up one of the hotel towels, he wiped away the remainders of last night’s movie binge while walking over to the door. Fumbling a bit with the keys, Emil eventually managed to unlock the door and opened it, inviting the woman inside.

 

Emil was, if he had to be honest, surprised to see her. She looked pretty much the same as the previous day, the only difference was that her hair hung loose and her uniform was replaced with casual clothing.

 

“I have an awful timing, don’t I?” Sara eyed him with mild curiosity, probably noticing his disarrayed hair, messy sweater and oh- his lack of any proper pants.

 

“Long night,” Emil eventually replied, closing the door behind the woman. “What brings you here?”

 

“An apology,” was her short reply. She turned around, her eyes bright with determination. “For yesterday, and your Hot Chocolate.”

 

Emil was truly flabbergasted when she handed him a relatively hot cup of what seemed to be Hot Chocolate. It at least smelled like it. The sweet scent of cacao mingled with the awful smell that lingered in his hotel room.

 

“You didn’t have to,” Emil muttered half-heartedly, taking a sip of the beverage. It tasted as sweet as it had smelled. “It’s just some Hot Chocolate.”

 

Sara shrugged off his apology, sitting down on the only empty chair in his hotel room. “Not just some Hot Chocolate- I also have a rude brother to apologise for, as he’s too stubborn to apologise.”

 

It seemed that Mickey wasn’t the only stubborn Crispino sibling. Even after Emil had assured her it was fine, it wasn’t the first time this had happened, she kept on apologising for her brother’s behaviour. At some point, Emil started to get the feeling that there was something else going- why else wanted she be this long in his presence?

 

“Sara, please get to the point,” Emil snapped, though it had little impact on the woman.

 

Sara gave him a look Emil couldn’t decipher. Was it gleeful? Sly? Or was it just mild surprise? However, as a sterner, more serious expression graced her face, Emil realised it was her way of getting to the point, accepting defeat.

 

“It’s Mickey,” she mumbled, her fingers clutching the skirt of her dress. “He...” she stubbornly shook her head. “Can you talk with him? It doesn’t have to be today, or face-to-face, but yesterday... shook him. He even willingly left his bed for the morning shift, one he usual loathes. He’s truly apologetic, but he’s too stubborn to admit.”

 

Emil had mixed feelings about Sara’s request. It seemed innocent enough, but he caught a mischievous hint in her eyes a couple of times. But this was also the opportunity to talk to Mickey once again, maybe even getting to know him a bit better. And, perhaps they could discuss soulmates. Even if Mickey didn’t turn out to be his soulmate, he at least had closure on that.

 

“I’ll...” yes? No?

 

But for the second time that day, Sara managed to surprise him. A bright grin was plastered on her face, and she pushed a few papers in his hands.

 

“Great,” she chimed, not giving him much time to utter a word. “This is his schedule, my phone number, his phone number and the number of the seats we have for your next show.”

 

Emil stared at the papers, perplexed. Sara had been planning this all along, setting him up to talk with Mickey again. A complete stranger had played him, and, surprisingly, he didn’t mind too much.

 

“Well, that was fun talking with you, Emil,” Sara smoothed out her skirt, flashing him a bright smile. “I’ll be taking my leave, letting you handle your hangover,” the woman basically skipped out of the room, leaving a confused and flabbergasted Emil behind.

 

Trying to avert his attention to something else, Emil started to run through the papers, his eyes picking up every detail. Mickey worked every working day, sometimes only in the morning, once only in the afternoon and Tuesday, yesterday, the entire day. And, reluctantly, Emil added Sara’s and Mickey’s number to his phone, adding the numbers to his never ending contact list.

 

Deciding to get some breakfast, Emil skimmed through his morning routine as a man on the run. After ten minutes, he entered the dining hall, dressed and showered. The scent of his hangover was masked with soap and a bit too much deodorant.

 

“Somebody looks like death,” one of his co-actors flashed him a playful grin.

 

Pushing up his oversized glasses- he actually regretted buying those, he likes his casual ones better- Emil gave his co-actor a small wave. “Good morning to you too, Chris.”

 

Chris flashed him a bright smile before continuing his conversation with Mila, a co-actress and the female lead of the musical. Emil mentally cursed Chris for recovering so well after getting a night wasted, but on the other hand, the actor always cleaned up well. Actually, there only had been one time Emil had caught Chris looking dishevelled, and that picture had been permanently imprinted on his brain, traumatising him to till this day.

 

Thankfully, Emil wasn’t the only one visibly struggling with their hangover. Mila looked like she hadn’t seen the sun in days. Her skin unhealthy pale, almost grey. Her hair was like Emil’s hidden underneath a beanie. Like Chris, she had spent last night singing and crying over Disney movies in Emil’s hotel room.

 

“Though I don’t like agreeing with Chris,” Emil’s youngest co-stars threw Chris a murderous glare. “You look like shit.”

 

 “Thanks,” Emil mused, snatching an abandoned waffle of Chris’ plate. “Last night’s food didn’t agree with me.”

 

“The food?” Mila joined the conversation, which automatically made Chris join the conversation too. Now it was a four-way conversation between Mila, Chris, Emil and Yuri, Emil’s youngest co-star. At least, as far as you could call it a conversation. “I thought it was the cute girl that left this morning- I saw her leaving your room maybe a fifteen minutes ago.”

 

Emil struggled to swallow his stolen waffle, coughing while his co-stars were laughing.

 

“A girl?” Chris remarked, an amused look on his face. “Weren’t you bawling your eyes out yesterday night that your soulmate might be an absolutely gorgeous man?”

 

“Chris,” Emil hissed, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

 

But the damage was already done. Yuri, who hadn’t been there last night because he didn’t ‘like’ their nightly activities, eyed him with disgust. Though, to be fair, the moment someone mentioned _soulmate_ in Yuri’s presence, the small blond would label you as _disgusting_ or _a crazy fool_.

 

“I can’t believe you’re still trying,” Yuri muttered. “It’s a waste of time, really.”

 

“Yuri, you see, this is where you’re wrong,” the tenderness in Chris’ eyes were unusual, but Emil had seen it before. “Finding your soulmate is worth more than you think, they will be your partner for life and love you unconditionally.”

 

Emil knew Chris was talking from his own experience. When they started the European leg of the tour, there had been a month break between that one and the American leg, Chris had been... different. His acting had become more real. The passion, the love. There is one particular touchy scene in the play. Previously, a handful of people would shed a tear or two during the scene. When Chris had returned for the European leg... the majority of the crowd was bawling their eyes out.

 

While Chris and Yuri started a discussion about soulmates, Emil tried to avoid Mila. He had noticed the gaze on her face, she wasn’t going to let Sara’s visit rest. She would pick him apart till she knew who Sara was, and why she was in his room that early morning.

 

“Emil,” Mila’s firm voice made him wince.

 

There it goes.

 

“She’s Mickey’s twin-sister,” he muttered.

 

Finally meeting Mila’s gaze, Emil was surprised by what he saw. Her eyes were big, her mouth wide open. An expression of total and utter surprised painted her face. “You weren’t kidding,” Mila muttered, her voice distant. “About the gene lottery, I mean,” Mila’s face grew bright red, matching her hair perfectly.

 

There was a brief pause between them, in which Emil took the opportunity to steal food from Yuri’s platter. He should get some breakfast himself instead of stealing other's food. But risking his perfectly good seat didn’t sit well with him, and stolen food tasted better anyway.

 

“I thought she was a model at first,” Mila admitted. “If her brother is even half as good-looking... damn.”

 

“Or they both meet your short list of expectations. For example, being Italian,” Chris had dropped his discussion with Yuri, his green eyes flashing with amusement. “I recall that the two of you spend an _awful_ lot of time sightseeing.”

 

“Sightseeing men and women, that is,” Yuri spat. “It was embarrassing.”

 

The moment Yuri had opened his mouth, Mila had put on her game-face. The two had a somewhat sibling-like relationship, seeing as both were from Russia. At least, Emil assumed they had a sibling-like relationship. The two often did bicker in Russian, which was equally hilarious as confusing for the cast, as none of them spoke Russian.

 

“Says the person who basically spends his entire stay in Astana with a complete stranger,” Mila teased.  


Those words resulted in a bright blush adorned Yuri’s cheeks. The young Russian didn’t back down. Instead, he growled at Mila. He looked scarier than any twenty-one-year should look.

 

Uncomfortable by being caught between Mila’s and Yuri’s bickering, Emil looked around to find his escape. A familiar figure caught his attention and suddenly, Emil knew his way out of this.

 

“I’ll see you later,” Emil announced in a hurry, barely giving any of his co-stars the opportunity to register his announcement.

 

Taking long strides, Emil managed to catch up with a smaller male dressed in a tracksuit. Seung-gil was another co-actor, playing one of the villains in the play. But unlike his on-screen persona, he was a bit dull and stoic, but an excellent companion if you needed some alone time. And, each morning, he would head out to fetch coffee from a coffee café. Seung-gil had stated long ago that coffee from hotels was too weak. By the time he got his daily fix, his bladder would give in.

 

“Mind if I tag along?” Seung-gil shrugged in response, which in Emil’s eyes was a ‘yes’.

 

Relieved, Emil started to chat about everything irrelevant he could come up with. His co-star responded once in a while. Short, curt answers, but Emil didn’t mind. He preferred to talk anyway, usually struggling to remain quiet for a long time. Some fresh air probably would do him some good. This idea, however, soon turned out to be a bad one. The moment he stepped outside, he realised that paparazzi surrounded them. He might should’ve stayed inside and listened to his friends' constant bickering. They at least didn’t want to take pictures of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had finished this chapter a few days ago, at least, this 'scene', but I wasn't sure whenever I should add an extra scene or not. So now I've two chapters finished, as both are long enough to work as an entire chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michele realises that there is more in life than his older sister, and it takes two annoying brats to make him realise that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback is insane. Seriously, what did I do to deserve this? You guys are way too kind. So, once again, I thank everyone who supports this from the bottom of my heart, you guys makes it the more worth it writing this. (I does help me with updating faster.)

Checking his reflection for what felt like the twentieth time, Michele decided to that this would do. A nice button-up, a pair of well-fitting jeans and casual shoes. It wasn’t like he was meeting the president of America or anything like that, he was just heading to a musical. And possibly seeing his possible soulmate again. And maybe talking to him, again. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

 

Trying to shake off the fluttering nerves, he gave his reflection one, final gaze. He looked fine, effortless, he at least hoped. He didn’t want Sara to think he had put more thought in his appearance than usual.

 

Smoothing out his hair, Michele picked up his bag and car keys and left his room. He, together with Sara, lived in the apartment above the coffee café. Originally their parents had lived, but nowadays that had retreated to a one-floored building to live out their senior's lives.

 

Tip-toeing down the stairs, Michele wondered what tricks faith was playing on him. It had been a day ago he had Emil in person, and the day had felt endless. The Czech had been clouding his mind, even the rush of the morning shift couldn’t push Emil to the back of his mind.

 

Eventually, Michele ended up in the small room that had been dubbed the ‘lunch break room’. It was decorated with a few worn chairs, a table and a pile of magazines. A coffee machine, a fridge and a toaster were safely tucked away in the corner.

 

Having still some time to lavish- Sara wouldn’t be back for another fifteen minutes- Michele left the room and manoeuvred between the heavily packed hallways and the small corridors. Eventually, he snuck behind the counter, checking up on how his co-worker was fairing. A customer here and there briefly glanced at him, but soon they returned to what they were doing.

 

Guang Hong was faring well, though Michele hadn’t expected anything less. The brunet was a natural talker, getting along with people and putting them at ease. Guang Hong’s shy and somewhat cute demeanour was also like a breath of fresh air for the customers. He wasn’t as big of a babbler as Sara nor was he a grumpy ass like Michele himself, though Michele wouldn’t admit that out loud, ever. The younger brunet nodded briefly to him, noticing Michele’s presence, before continuing his airy and casual chat with one of the customer’s.

 

As the bell rang, announcing the next customer, the previous customer bid Guang Hong goodbye and took a seat at one of the few tables. The new customer was no stranger for Michele. He never had liked Leo, the Hispanic always seemed to get along with Sara, too well to be fair. At some point, Michele had started to believe the two had started to date. Though, later on, Sara had promised they weren’t, they just got along well. But Michele had promised himself to keep an eye on the student, just to be safe.

 

Following Leo, Michele noticed the curious look on Leo’s face. Usually, Sara had the afternoon shift, but she had switched with Guang Hong as the latter’s schedule had changed, freeing up his Wednesday afternoon. Grinning almost gleeful, Michele considers this as a win. _Out of luck, Leo, you’ll have to do it with him_.

 

But he was disappointed to see Leo put a smile on his face and cheerfully greeted Guang Hong. “Sara is not here today?”

 

A chill ran down Michele’s spine as he saw Guang Hong freeze on the spot. Why did Leo of all people have to say those words? Michele knew that those were Guang Hong’s words, his soul mark. It had been a part of their job interview, asking what motivated Guang Hong to work at their coffee café. The student had shown his soul mark without much hesitation, explaining that this could increase the chance of finding his soulmate. In addition to that, he was strapped for cash and he could get along well with customers, having worked plenty of times in his parent’s shop back in China.

 

Curious, Michele watched the scene unfold. Guang Hong nodded slowly, tight-lipped. It took Leo a bit to catch up before he realised what just had happened. Smiling encouraging, Leo took a seat on one of the few barstools, propping his head on his hands.

 

“Take your time,” Leo grinned, a faint blush making his ears turn red.

 

Gratefully, Guang Hong nodded and started to frown, gathering his thoughts.

 

Michele felt sorry for his co-worker. While Guang Hong clearly had wanted to meet his soulmate, hence why he wanted this particular job, it remained terrifying. This could be the very person you spend the rest of your life with, and you want to be sure. And sometimes, even soulmates had a poisoned relationship, ending up in a terrible divorce and their soul marks permanently would fade, leaving subtle, white lines behind. And those stories were the most frightening because you’re supposed to be _happy_ with your soulmate by your side. If they can’t make you happy, who else can?

 

A feeling of guilt clouded his mind. Maybe this was how Emil had felt- if Michele had spoken the words of his soul mark. Terrified, nervous, mentally screaming at the top of his lungs. On the other hand, Emil hadn’t acted particular strange, only looking startled by Michele’s outburst. Once again, Michele knew he was looking way too much into it. The chance that Emil was his soulmate was slim, slimmer that his chances to become an actor, which was saying quite a lot.

 

When soft, inaudible words started to leave Guang Hong’s lips, Michele kicked his ass back to reality. He had to be there if everything went south, so he could usher Guang Hong into the back and take care of Leo’s order himself. But it didn’t seem that Michele had to intervene.

 

“All those days,” the words rang as a soft, newly born melody, catching a few surprised stares from the customers. But it seemed Guang Hong was too occupied with his first words to notice.

 

“Been chasing down a daydream,” that kid could sing. “All those years living in a blur.”

 

It didn’t come to Michele as a surprise to hear Guang Hong sing, sing well none the less. Guang Hong had mentioned he was studying theatre and was planning on auditioning for musicals as soon as he finished school. And, though he would take it down to the grave with him, Michele had caught himself enjoying Guang Hong’s humming occasionally. It didn’t matter what song was playing in the background, Guang Hong always managed to hum along.

 

The soft words eventually faded into a deafening silence. All eyes were set on the pair of brunets. Guang Hong had a bright flush on his face, running from the tip of his ears till it disappeared behind the apron. But it was Leo whose expression was truly surprising. The Hispanic, often aloof and fun-going, looked like he just saw the world end. Tight-lipped, eyes big in shock and any healthy colour on his face had been drained away.

 

And Michele knew what had happened. It didn’t take a genius to see what happened. They had found each other- two soulmates that had found their other half. Leo thawed out of his shocked expression, a delighted smile bright on his face. In response, Guang Hong basically beamed like the sun, his eyes bright with happiness.

 

Michele flinched when a deafening applause echoed through the small café. Looking around, Michele saw many familiar faces smiling or grinning, some even mouthing words along the lines of ‘good job’ or ‘congratulations’. It didn’t come to him as a big surprise. Leo was a regular customer and was well known by the other’s, and plenty people had grown fond of Guang Hong.

 

Needing a breather, Michele snatched his coat off the hook and manoeuvred between the tables. Nobody actually paid attention to him, too caught up in the whirlwind of newly found romance. And honestly, he was really glad for that. Once he slipped out of the café, Michele took a few long, slow breaths. Feeling a chill run down his neck, Michele threw on his coat and leant against the cold brick wall of the café.

 

So that is what he had been ignoring for the last twenty-eight years. The happiness, the glee, the doe-eyes of having someone meant for you. He never had bothered to find his soulmate- it had felt like a waste of time. He always had been there to protect Sara, but now his sister started to get more independent by the day, he was left alone. No soulmate to share his life with, as he never bothered to look for one. And that one moment a possible soulmate pretty much fell in his lap, he blurted out the stupidest, most thoughtless response one could utter.

 

Maybe he could mentally strangle himself to death. Which, by the second that passed by, seemed to be more appealing. Or maybe he should man up and accept that faith was being an asshole and just chase after his future, his possible soulmate... scrap that, ignoring it was much easier. Sara would never fully disappear from his life anyway.

 

Hearing a familiar voice calling his name, well, _nickname_ , Michele hurriedly pushed himself off the wall, smoothing out his coat. He wasn’t ready to be caught by his own sister moping against a brick-wall like some emo kid from the mid-nineties.

 

“Hey Mickey, what’re,” Sara’s smile fathered, her eyes grew big with concern. “Mickey, what’s wrong?”

 

Blinking stupidly, Michele shook his head. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Sara, I'm all right.”

 

Looking even more concerned, Sara walked up to him, taking off her gloves. Sara’s cold hand brushed against his cheek, her thumb wiping away previously unnoticed tears. He had been crying, or at least that was what he assumed. How hadn’t realised this?

 

“What happened?” her voice was firm and somewhat demanding.

 

Michele mustered a weak smile and softly pushed Sara’s hand away. “Nothing bad, really- I just realised that I’m a complete and utter idiot.”

 

A snort escaped Sara’s lips, followed by a cheeky grin. “I already knew that- we all knew. But what did trigger the realisation?”

 

“Guang Hong,” the moment Sara threw him a confused look, he realised his answer was a bit vague. “He found his soulmate, and he seemed so happy. And all I do is mope around while I might have _met_ my soulmate.” Sara’s expression had done a one-eight. An expression of pure delight radiated off her face.

 

“Finally,” her gleeful expression changed, being partly replaced with a motherly expression. “And who is the lucky woman?” there was a hint of danger in her voice.

 

A chill run down Michele’s spine. He had forgotten how much Sara cared about Guang Hong, she pretty much doted on him, like an older sister, or a mother. And with the doting came a protective mind, a mindset Michele had when it came to Sara and any possible suitors.

 

“Men,” Michele corrected her. “Guang Hong’s soulmate is male, and a familiar face.”

 

“Who?”

 

For a brief moment, Michele hesitated to tell Sara. But there was no use not telling, and Leo wasn’t _that_ bad. Especially now that Leo had found his soulmate, which meant he no longer would be a suitor for Sara. Which meant there was one less suitor to fed off.

 

“Leo,” he eventually whispered, just loud enough for Sara to pick it up.

 

“For real!” she exclaimed, her eyes big with surprise.

 

When Michele nodded, Sara rushed past him, entering the shop in a hurry, her hair fluttering behind her. Following her inside, Michele closed the door, blocking out the cold air. Sara already had run past the customer’s, who eyed her with surprise. She basically threw her arms around Leo’s neck, a bright smile on her lips.

 

“Congratulations!” she cried, planting a small kiss on Leo’s forehead.

 

Digging his blunt nails into his hand, Michele restrained himself from barking at Leo. Sara and Leo were friends- it was logical for her to be happy. Though that didn’t meant he liked it. And, to his own relief, Leo was probably off limits now anyway, with Guang Hong being his soulmate and all that stuff.

 

“And,” Sara’s voice dropped, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you ever hurt him, I know where to find you, and I know what hurt the most,” she didn’t even bother to lower her voice, everyone in the shop could hear her.

 

Leo grew slightly pale in the face, his eyes were set with fright. When he sought comfort with Guang Hong, however, he only received a small grin. Michele knew that Guang Hong had seen many sides of Sara, as the two run the same shifts most of the time. He had seen her chipper side, her calm side, her frightening side.

 

“I understand, Sara,” Leo eventually spluttered.

 

Sara’s face did a one-eighty, her big, excited grin returned, and she loosened crushing hug. She bade both Guang Hong and Leo farewell and returned back to Michele, which hadn’t left the entrance.

 

“Now that’s settled,” the smile on her face didn’t even remotely waver. “Should we head out?”

 

Nerves settled in his stomach as reality hit him. He was going to see Emil tonight. On stage, none the less, but he still was going to share a space with Emil, hear his chipper voice and see him perform as his beloved character.

 

“I-” before Michele even considered chickening out, Sara had gotten a tight grip on his wrist.

 

“Don’t you dare to bolt out,” she hissed between her teeth, dragging him out of the shop. “Or _I_ will drive, and do we want that?”

 

The nerves were replaced by utter fear. Sara was a terrible driver. She had managed to wreck two of his cars and getting a handful of speeding tickets. Behind the wheel, his twin managed to slur out curse-words Michele didn’t even recognise, and he knew he had quite some knowledge on curse words, ranging from American till British, with addition some Italian.

 

“Fine, I’ll co-operate,” Michele muttered. “But please, don’t ever suggest that again.”

 

A cheeky grin brightened her face as Sara nodded in agreement. “I can’t guarantee anything,” she answered.

 

Knowing that this was the best answer he would get, Michele strode to his car, Sara in tow. There was no need to be nervous, it wasn’t like he was going to _speak_ with Emil. He had seen the actor countless times, and today would be no different.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist putting some Leoji in there, as they are my favourite by far. (Though they also worked as a proper plot device to make Michele 'realised' his feelings)
> 
> Feel free to point out some mistakes, I haven't bothered to do my second round of beta-ing, so there surely are a few silly mistakes.
> 
> The song used in this chapter is _I see the Light - Tangled (Movie)_. (Expect a lot more Disney song appearances in the future.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the writer creates an entire story for a Soulmate Au, Michele geeks out over a play like some theatre kid and the two lovebirds meet again. Will Michele bolt out again? Or is he finally pursuing happiness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy, busy and busy. That happens when you procrastinate all your schoolwork till the last few days.
> 
> Not entirely happy with the chapter, a lot of description, Michele is probably a bit OOC (a bit, cough, cough, a lot). Though, the chapter is almost 4k, so that's a bonus. (Though there is 3k off deleted scenes from this chapter- I struggled so much.)

How exactly he had managed, Michele wasn't sure, but he managed to convince himself into thinking that things would be normal. He would simply enjoy the play, sing along with the songs under his breath and shed a few tears. But as he took his designated seat, he knew that this wouldn’t be the case. Nerves fluttered in his stomach, he would _see_ Emil again, share a room with him. It didn’t matter that there was quite some distance between them. And, Emil in real-life was even prettier, handsome and adorable than on Michele’s most prized posters.

 

As Michele fidgeted in his chair, he noticed that Sara was eyeing him with worry. It wasn’t like him to be extremely nervous for something, and surely she had expected that he would be okay. At least, that was what he had expected himself, he rarely was this nervous, if he ever was so nervous.

 

“I'll be fine, really,” Michele assured his sister- or at least tried.

 

Her worry didn’t fade, but she stopped giving him concerned stares. Instead, she started a casual chat with her neighbour, a woman who was somewhere her mid-thirties.

 

Still having to wait a solid ten minutes before the performance to start, Michele flipped through the booklet he and Sara had gotten when they entered the building. It seemed that they finally had redesigned it. The new design was at least better than the previous one, who had looked like it had been designed by a first-year art student, who later on switched over to economics because art wasn’t their thing.

 

The first page summarised the play, which Michele could quote by heart, and mentally, he did.

 

In a world where magic was considered rebellious and dangerous, twins Rowan and Kelly tried their best to fit in with the crowd. But as the heir of wind starts to grow weak and old, it's up to them to take the throne. But the journey is far more dangerous than either expected, had hoped for. On their dangerous quest, they’re accompanied by unlikely allies. A cocky wizard-protégée and a runaway prince. But even with their new friends on their side, is it enough to reach the temple of the wind before their enemy does?

 

The next pages were short character introductions, who the actor or actress was who played them, their names and a brief description. A smile crept on Michele's face when he landed on Emil's character. Rowan, the older of the two twins. Two pictures of Emil stood next to each other, one with his brown hair and beard while the other he had auburn hair and a clean-shaven face, making him look like his actual age. The next two pages were dedicated to Emil's on-stage twin sister, Kelly. She was played Mila Babicheva, an actress two years older than Emil. Unlike Emil, she looked almost identical to her on-screen persona, sharing the auburn hair and blue eyes.

 

Flipping through the rest of the booklet, Michele took in the familiar faces. Chris Giacometti played the runaway prince named Quinn, the two pictures almost identical safe from the stubbly beard on Chris' own photo. Yuri Plisetsky played the cocky wizard-protégée Finlay. Both pictures of him displayed him scowling, the only difference was the hair colour, which changed from blond to pitch black with subtle curls. Aidan, the rumoured heir of fire for the sequel, was played by Seung-gil Lee. The two pictures were a stark contrast of one another. While the same in appearance, the expression contrasted greatly. In his own picture, Seung-gil looked rather stoic, while in the other picture he seemed to be smiling shyly, looking like an entirely different person. And the last major character was the main villain Neil, played by Jean-Jacques Leroy. His pictures were identical, both of them displaying the same, smug grin. Michele even dared to believe that it was the same picture.

 

Flinching when Sara jabbed him between the ribs, Michele looked up from the booklet. He hadn't noticed that the lights had dimmed, nor that the curtains were being pulled away, revealing the stage. He had nearly missed the beginning of the play, even after bothering to pass the speed limit a handful of times to get there in time. This hadn’t happened before- the idea of seeing Emil again surely had caught him more off-guard than he had anticipated.

 

"Thanks," Michele whispers, tucking the booklet in his pocket. Shifting around, he made sure that he was comfortable.

 

The storyteller walked up the stage. She was a motherly looking woman, a warm expression on her face, her brown eyes shimmering brightly. An old looking book was tucked underneath her arm. She walked to the middle of the stage and sat down at the age. Waving to a few excited looking kids, she opened the book, starting on the first page. Her voice was sweet and very pleasant to listen to- a great story teller.

 

"The King of Rinne was a well-liked King. He was kind to his people and showed great care- but, of course, every bright side has their dark one. The King lusted after war, but who to start a war with? The kingdom of Rinne was an island, a well-guarded at that, nobody would be crazy enough to attack them. His own people came to mind, but there hadn’t been an uproar for decades. But there were ones that weren't loyal to the King, who were strong-willed and free-spirited. The mages, heirs to the elements. Fire, water, air and earth. And, the perfect victims for his war. So the King cooked up a plan to eliminate all the mages, clenching his thirst for war. They would give him a challenge, that's for sure. And so, years passed and the mages grew restless. The sudden ban on magic caused commotion, mages fleeing the island to find peace somewhere else. Other's stayed, in the hope that thing would turn out for the better. Amongst those were two siblings, twin’s to be exactly. Their names are Rowan and Kelly, heirs to the throne of wind. And this is their story."

 

The lights dimmed completely, and the bustling of people and rustling of clothes could be heard, but the stage was pitch-black for the viewers. A soft, peaceful melody started to chime through the air, and the first scene opened up with a music sequence.

 

~*~

 

Taking a few, long breaths, Michele checked himself in the mirror. His cheeks were scrubbed raw, and his eyes were still slightly bloodshot, though they weren't as bad as it previously had been. A few other men were in the bathroom with him, but none of them batted an eye at him. Some were just taking a leak, others were trying to pull themselves together after the particularly emotional scene that rounded up the play. Michele belonged to the latter group.

 

Taking out the bottle of hand crème he had borrowed from Sara, he gently applied the cold cream to his raw cheeks. To cold cream was a relief to his skin and soon, he was rubbing it in circles on his face, making silly faces as he applied the transparent cream. Nobody there would bother to annoy him, and it wasn’t like this was the most embarrassing bathroom activity he had done.

 

Feeling refreshed, Michele left the men's bathroom and caught up with Sara. His twin had settled down on scrolling through her phone, probably Instagram knowing her well enough.

 

"Ready to leave," Michele announced, a weak smile on his face. Sadly, with crying came a headache.

 

Sara looked up from her phone, a sly smile on her face. "We aren't leaving yet."

 

With a mischievous shimmer in her eyes, she pulled two extra tickets out of her bag. Ticket’s for a meet-up with the cast after the show. And a meet-up with Emil, no doubt.

 

Panic made him feel ill, the realisation hit him hard. "We're leaving," he said shrilly, ready to drag his sister along with him to the car. Heck, he was even prepared to abandon her. "I'm not prepared for this."

 

Sara threw him a murderous glare and took a tight hold of his wrist. "You'll never be prepared for this," she answered coldly. "Just talk to him. A week ago you would've killed for the meet and greet tickets."

 

"A week ago I didn't know that Emil could-" Michele forcefully closed his lips, cutting himself off mid-sentence. He just had admitted that out loud. That he was starting to believe Sara. He couldn’t wait for this hell week to be over.

 

"Finally!" Sara exclaimed, relief bright on her face. "Now, let's go, those tickets weren't cheap."

 

Though he wasn't exactly looking forward to it, Michele let himself being dragged away by his sister. There was no use struggling, she would even willingly carry him to the meet and greet. And now he so foolishly had admitted about his interest in Emil- there was no turning back.

 

The hallways were pretty empty, only coming across a few other visitors’ here and there, but nobody even spared them a glance. When they arrived at the room where the meet and greet was held, Michele was surprised that his nerves had faded, replaced by the feeling of acceptance. Maybe thing wouldn't be so bad, Emil was a good man as far as he knew. And, though Emil was his favourite, there were plenty of other actors and actresses he wanted to meet, speak with and ask a signature-

 

The calm feeling of acceptance soon turned out to be temporary. Within a matter of seconds, it had been replaced by subtle horror. "Sara, I don't have anything to sign," Michele panicked. He hadn't bothered to bring anything like posters along, as he hadn't expected to stay behind for a meet and greet. And he dearly regretted it.

 

His sister grinned and started to rummage through her bag. "I bought this when you were cleaning yourself up in the bathroom," she said merrily, handing him a decently sized promotion poster of the musical.

 

Making sure the poster was out of harm’s way, Michele pulled Sara into a hug. "Thanks," he mumbled, hoping that his gratitude showed.

 

Sara patted him on the back, smiling against his shoulder. "You're welcome. Now, we should head inside, the meet and greet won't last forever."

 

Reluctantly, Michele pulled free from the hug and let Sara hand the security people the tickets. After a quick check-up, the two siblings were allowed access.

 

The room was warm and damp. It was buzzing with life as many people were walking around. Fan's and stars alike were chatting with each other, their faces flustered but excited looking. At least most of their faces, Seung-gil remained as stoic as ever.

 

Looking around, Michele was relieved to see that Emil was occupied by a small horde of fans. It was a good excuse to hold off meeting Emil. Letting his eyes wander around the room, Michele noticed that the actress Mila just bad a fan goodbye, leaving her unoccupied.

 

Momentarily forgetting about Sara, Michele strode over to the redhead, a nervous smile crossing his face. While Emil was overall favourite, Mila was his favourite actress of the play. Though, admittedly, there were very little females in the play. Never the less.

 

"Hi!" he greeted her excitedly, only to feel mortified seconds later. He sounded like some extreme fanboy who was dying inside from the nerves. "I'm so happy to meet you, I think you're a fantastic actress," smooth Michele, really smooth.

 

Thankfully, Mila was a good sport and laughed along, offering him a kind smile. "Nervous?" she asked.

 

"A little," Michele answered, stuffing his twitchy fingers in his pockets. "But I'm serious, I think you're a good actress. And I love your singing, especially during _Serenade for Two_."

 

The redhead was taken aback, an expression of mild surprise on her face. "Really, _Serenade for Two_?" she mused, sounding equally surprised as she looked.

 

Michele nodded eagerly. "Your voice fits the song so well- you make it come alive. I love your part of the duet, Chris' part isn't bad, but..." a flush run up his ears as he realised he had started to babble.

 

Mila laughed merrily, a sincere smile on her face. "Thank you, most people like the duet's I sing with Emil more than my small cameo in _Serenade of Two_. I think most people forget that it’s a _duet_ , despite its name."

 

To his surprise, he managed to calm his nerves and have a fun conversation with Mila. When Michele finally stopped geeking out, something he would never admit out loud, Mila's teasing side started to show. The professional barrier between had crumbled, enjoying a proper conversation.

 

"I-" Michele eventually muttered, noticing a few fan's glaring at him. "I should move on to the next person."

 

The redhead clearly was as surprised as he was, checking her phone briefly to check on the time. "Oh shit, you're right."

 

Mila's ears grew bright red the moment she realised she just had cursed in front of a fan. "I'm sorry, I-"

 

"It's fine," Michele chuckled. "Though, one favour, could you sign this?"

 

Michele handed her the newly bought poster. Without much protest, if no protest at all, she signed the poster.

 

"There you go," she handed him back the poster. "Now, hush, you already got more one-on-one time with me than I usually have my ma."

 

Chuckling, Michele wished her goodbye. He moved out of Mila's personal space, giving other fans the opportunity to talk with her.

 

"And Mickey!" Michele turned around, startled by Mila's loud voice. "If you've time left, feel free to drop by again. It was nice talking with you!"

 

Michele nodded curtly and moved on to the next person. He did wonder, however, how Mila knew his name. Nickname none the less. He was sure that he hadn't told her, though, if he had to be honest, he only could recall snippets of his conversation with Mila.

 

In a good mood and with his nerves fully gone, Michele managed to catch Chris next. The blond was a tad flirty, something that other fans had stated but Michele hadn't believed. But it wasn't uncomfortable, and though short, his conversation with Chris was pleasant. He even managed to get some acting tips. While Chris was far from his favourite singer, the blond knew how to act, he maybe even was one of the better actors. Maybe even better than Emil-

 

Nope. He wasn't going to betray Emil like that. He would be a fan till the death, which might come sooner than expected if his life remained such a never-ending rollercoaster.

 

"Thank you for your time," Michele thanked Chris one last time before moving over to the next unoccupied person he could find that wasn’t Emil.

 

Seung-gil was third in line. The Korean never had been his favourite, especially as Sara had a small crush on him years ago, but Michele defiantly could respect his acting abilities.

 

Though, when talking a bit to the guy, Michele wondered if the man had picked the wrong occupation. Being a model might better suit him. Less talking, no smiling needed and he was absolutely stunning, even better looking in real life than on the photos.

 

"How many languages do you speak?" it seemed that this wasn't a usual question, as Seung-gil gave him an odd look.

 

"I mean, do you need more for work than just English," Michele added, feeling the pressure of Seung-gil's gaze. "Or will English do fine?"

 

"Depends," was Seung-gil's curt answer. "English will suffice, but more is always welcome."

 

Michele was surprised to hear the Korean uttering such a long reply. Though, this remained the longest answer by far. The few other questions Michele asked were answered with a yes or a no, rarely adding an explanation.

 

Ten minutes later, Michele departed from Seung-gil satisfied, both with the replies and the addition of his signature. The room was obviously less crowded, as it started to get somewhat late in the evening. Plenty of people had work tomorrow, as Thursday was a normal working day. Even the cast probably wanted to start rounding this up.

 

Looking around the room, Michele hoped he could catch either JJ or Yuri. He wasn't a particularly big fan of either of them, both were a bit odd in his opinion, but as long as he hadn't spoken to these two, he could avoid Emil. Sadly, however, the only one free for now was Emil. Actually, Michele couldn't even spot JJ or Yuri. Maybe the two already had left, done for the night.

 

Taking a deep breath, Michele clutched the poster in his hand and walked to Emil, hoping that by some miracle he could chicken out.

 

"Hi, Emil," Michele croaked. Any bit of confidence that was left flooded down the drain. He was really going to regret this, and he defiantly was going to make a fool of himself. And he thought things couldn’t get worse.

 

That the Czech looked surprised was an understatement. Emil was basically gaping at him, wearing an expression of pure and utter surprise. Michele noticed that the actor’s ears were bright red- though this easily could be caused by the heat.

 

"Ah, Mickey," Emil mumbled, nerves mixing in with the words. "Surprised to see you here."

 

Michele chuckled, glad to see that Emil too was nervous. "I would love to say the same, but that would be a bit silly."

 

Emil let out a loud snort, cracking a smile he quickly covered with a free hand. It was unbelievable, the man was even more precious in real life than on stage.

 

A somewhat pleasant silence fell between them. Emil was still muffling his giddy laughter, his cheeks growing redder as the second passed by. Michele himself took this moment of quiet to figure out a good conversation starter, they had to talk about it sooner or later. Or, at least, _he_ had to talk about it. Emil had spoken his first words to him, well, _word_. And while _sure_ was a straightforward and common word, it usually wasn't the first word one said to another.

 

"Can I have your autograph?" smooth, Michele. Really smooth.

 

The second the words escaped his lips, it felt as if someone had set his face on fire. Mortified, Michele basically pushed the poster against Emil's chest, his eyes downcasted, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

 

It took Emil a while to answer, at least it felt that it took ages for Emil to response, whenever it was physical or vocally. Gentle fingers pried the poster from his hands.

 

The same softly pushed against his shoulders moment later, forcing Michele to look up. Concern clouded Emil's eyes. Though the concern startled him, Michele was awfully grateful for the fact that Emil kept his distance, not taking up all his personal space.

 

"You're okay?" Emil's asked. "It's warm in here. If you feel like fainting-"

 

"I'm fine," Michele snapped. "Just nervous," he added in a whisper, hoping that Emil wouldn't catch it. It was warm inside, but that wasn’t the reason he felt so heated.

 

Though the concern was still evident on his face, Emil put on a believable smile and returned to the poster, which he had placed on a nearby chair a few moments ago.

 

Emil signed the poster and handed it back to him. "There you go,” he said, grinning brightly. “Yuri probably will return sooner or later, and JJ is always somewhere close-by. Mention his name and he’ll come," the actor added, probably noticing the two missing signatures.

 

"Thanks," Michele muttered, carefully rolling up the poster. "I-"

 

And of course, someone had to ruin his attempt to start a proper conversation. And, sadly enough, it was in the most embarrassing, mortifying way ever. Michele had been so focussed on getting the words properly formed that he hadn’t noticed Chris. Chris, just like him, hadn’t noticed Michele’s focused expression. So, without mercy, Chris had swung an arm around Michele’s shoulders, greeting the two males.

 

Taken by surprise, a rather unmanly scream escaped his lips. In a frantic, Michele swatted Chris’ arm away and hurried over to Emil’s side, almost hiding behind the Czech’s back.

 

An apologetic look crossed Chris’ face. It clearly hadn’t been his attention to giving Michele such a fright. Though it didn't make up for Michele’s rapid heartbeat and tight throat. And, not to forget he basically was hiding behind’s Emil’s back like a scared child.

 

"My apologies," Chris offered Michele an apologetic smile. "I thought you already had noticed me."

 

However, Michele soon spotted a sly smile tugging Chris' lips. The blond was thinking about something, and Michele honestly didn't want to know. But before he could escape the situation, words escaped Chris' lips. Now he _defiantly_ was traumatised for life.

 

"Emil, I think you got yourself a screamer," at first, it sounded somewhat innocent. _Somewhat_. But Michele soon realised this probably was directed at the bedroom.

 

Curiously, Michele watched Emil’s expression. He had expected the Czech the brush it off, smiling awkwardly. But Emil looked downright mortified, emberasment as bright as daylight.

 

Then, suddenly, it started to sink in. Something had been bothering Michele, but up until knew, he didn’t know what. But now he knew. They all knew him. Every person of the cast he had met, Mila, Chris, Seung-gil, none of them had even bothered to ask his name. Yet, they always had addressed him as Mickey, or at least the former two. Emil had _talked_ about him, enough for the cast to recognise him. And, since none of them even hesitated, Emil probably had described him in great detail as they instantly recognised him.

 

Emil was _interested_ in him. Enough for him to gush about him. And, he knew that Emil just didn’t _date_. The Czech had stated a few times that he had been searching for his soulmate and he wouldn’t rest until he had found them. And Michele knew that this was already going on for years. Which meant that Emil possibly _thought_ Michele could be his soulmate.

 

"We haven't talked yet," the words that left Emil's lips were small and feeble, lacking the energy they usually had.

 

"Merde," Chris cursed, though Michele barely registered it. "Emil, I didn't know, I-"

 

There was a brief pause, leaving Michele to figure out his inner conflict. He either could run away, leaving the scene behind him, in the past. Sara would be mad, of course, and Emil probably disappointed. But he easily could Emil for the rest of his life, and Sara surely would forgive him eventually. But what if this was his only shot at happiness? A few hours ago he basically had cried because he was jealous of two students finding love.

.

Before Michele could decide what to do, Emil had recovered from the blow.  "Just, cover for me, okay," Emil's basically pleaded, clearly addressing Chris.

 

A rough hand gently took Michele’s wrist. "Mickey, if you don't mind, should we head out to talk?" Emil’s gaze was pleading, his blue eyes begging Michele to say yes.

 

And so he did, regretfully.

 

"Sure," a bright smile lit up Emil’s face.

 

Gently, Emil pulled him along. Somewhat clumsy, Michele stumbled behind the Czech, struggling to keep up despite the little height difference. If he just tore himself free and ran for the door, he could get the car and...

 

No. For once, Michele wasn’t going to be a big baby and run away from his responsibilities. He was a grown ass man, though he didn’t felt like one. He was going to find his happiness or at least the chance for some one-on-one time with Emil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There at least will be a three/four chapter's until this is finished. And there will be a few one-shot', probably. Though they will focus more on other couples because I'm a huge sap and have a lot of love to give.
> 
> It's pretty under-edited, so there surely will be some stupid mistakes. Feel free to point them out. Comments are also greatly appreciated, as they honestly make my day. (And I'll always try to response)
> 
> And yes, _Serenade for Two_ isn't a duet. But as it's a Disney-like song and very adorable and romantic as hell, I couldn't leave it out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they _finally_ talk about their feelings, Michele is a Disney nerd and Emil still doesn't knows that Mickey isn't Michele's real name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy last weekend, hence why this is so late. (I think that, within a span of 48 hours, I spend 24 hours working and 24 hours sleeping so yeah...)
> 
> I think it's pretty well edited. But you'll see it's still utter garbage. By now, I've over 5k off leftovers, snippets that never will be used. The amount of Sara x Mila in this chapter is very little, as I didn't like the part I had written for them. (Sara was very OOC). Chris' mystery boyfriend also made it's way into the story, somehow.

Leaving the room was like a fresh breath of air. Cold air brushed against his sweaty skin, sending shivers down his spine. Yet his fingers felt like burning, carefully wrapped around Mickey’s wrist. Emil wasn’t sure whenever he should be grateful towards Chris or ‘accidentally’ forget his Christmas-present. Knowing himself, he probably would forget all about it and would buy Chris the ugliest Christmas sweater he could find.

 

“I think this place will do,” Emil announced after a while, noticing that the dressing-rooms were completely empty. “If you still want to talk.”

 

Feeling like his heart was ready to burst out of his chest, Emil finally let go of Mickey’s wrist. Suddenly his fingers felt cold and a bit lost. Unsure what to do with the sudden loss of the heat, Emil stuffed the hand into his pocket. Gathering his courage, he turned around to face Mickey.

 

Mickey was breathing heavily, his olive skin slightly flustered. Emil could barely believe _this_ guy could be his soulmate- it all seemed to be too surreal. For starters, Mickey was way out of his league, a handsome man with surely many admirers who probably spends his nights at fancy restaurants or clubs. While he was just Emil, an actor who spends his free time watching animated movies and starts crying as soon as the movie _Up_ starts.

 

“Of course I want to talk,” Mickey eventually answered, still breathing shallowly. “That’s why I agreed in the first place.”

 

Offering the brunet a subtle smile, Emil grabbed two chairs from the empty dressing room and put them opposite of each other, making sure there was plenty of space between them. Mickey didn’t seem to be the guy who enjoyed physical contact. This was all concluded from Mickey’s horrifying scream when Chris had slung his arm around the barista’s shoulder.

 

An awkward silence fell between the two when they finally sat down. Emil tried to catch’s Mickey’s gaze, but it seemed the barista was looking everywhere expect from Emil’s face.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mickey finally looked at him, surprise clear as daylight on his face. “For Chris, I mean. And talking about you to my co-stars, in case if you haven’t figured that out.”

 

Mickey nodded slowly, though thankfully he didn’t look away again. “I figured, though I don’t understand. Why?”

 

It was Emil’s turn to be surprised. “What _why?_ ” he asked, not sure what Mickey was hinting at.

 

“Why you talk about me,” there was a certain degree of self-loathing in Mickey’s voice. “I’m barely worth talking about- I don’t understand. How would you even want someone like me as your _soulmate_? All I did was yell at you and ruin your day off.”

 

For a brief moment, Emil wasn’t sure if his heart was still beating. Mickey knew- but how? He hadn’t reacted particularly odd to Mickey’s first words. “How do you know?”

 

Michel quickened an eyebrow in subtle annoyance. “I know what my soul mark is, you know. Thankfully my soulmate doesn’t have an unreadable handwriting.”

 

Pretty much at the same time, realisation drawn upon both.

 

“Wait,” Emil choked on his own words. “You _are_ my soulmate?”

 

“You’re saying that ‘ _Hey, my sister is off limits_ ’ _is_ your soul mark?” Michele exclaimed, an expression of pure and utter surprise on his face.

 

Emil nodded furiously, excitement bright on his face. “It is. Wait- I’ll show you.”

 

In a hurry, the excitement caused his hands to tremble, Emil managed to pull off his tunic. The piece of clothing was hastily thrown on a chair, though he would expect to get scolding sooner or later for throwing it around, as it was still part of his costume. His undershirt followed soon, leaving him bare-chested.

 

Sucking his tummy in, Emil had forgotten he had gotten a bit chubby over the time, he finally dared to look Mickey in the eyes again. His soulmate was heavily flustered, the flush running from the tips of his ear down his neck till it disappeared into Mickey’s button-up.

 

“It’s on my back,” Emil explained awkwardly. “Sorry for stripping down without warning.”

 

“It’s fine,” Mickey mumbled, his eyes downcasted. “Can I see it- I mean, your soul mark.”

 

Nodding, Emil turned around, showing his bare back to Mickey. There was the scraping of a chair against the wooden floor, followed by soft footsteps. Resisting the urge to look around, Emil focussed himself on the bare, white wall in front of him.

 

Cold fingers brushed over his back, sending shivers down his spine. “That’s my handwriting,” Mickey muttered, a finger tracing Emil’s soul mark. “I can’t believe it,” there was a certain disappointment that made Emil’s heart to ache. So Mickey was disappointed with him after all.

 

“I’m sorry, you know, for the disappointment,” the cold fingers left his skin immediately, and Emil almost considered it a lost.

 

“Disappointment?” Mickey sobbed.

 

Shocked, Emil turned around, nearly hitting Mickey in the process. “ _You_ should be disappointed, not I-” the brunet hiccupped, cheeks tear-stained. “That someone like me is your soulmate- me, a twenty-eight-year-old guy who graduated from university with an economics degree but ends up working in a coffee café. Me, whose best friend is my sister. Me, who can’t even congratulate someone on finding their soulmate because I was jealous of their happiness. Me, who spends their free-time acting in the hopes once to share a stage with you in the future. How can someone like you want such a pathetic soulmate?”

 

“Hey, don’t say that,” Emil muttered, softly taking Mickey’s face in his hands. “I’m far from disappointed- I’m happy.”

 

Mickey blinked in surprise, a few leftover tears rolling down his face. “You’re happy?”

 

“Of course,” Emil beamed. “I couldn’t ask for more. Someone who likes theatre, has a close connection to their family and wishes to pursue their dream- even if they seem unrealistic in their eyes.”

 

“But you’re way out of my league,” Mickey protested, trying to push Emil’s hand away. “You’re a famous actor, you have a legion of fans- you get to see and to travel the world, and I probably would hold you back from that, as I can’t come with you.”

 

“And I’m still a human being,” Emil muttered, brushing their noses together. “My best friends are my co-stars, I speak with my mother weekly, I _sing_ when I shave my beard. My Friday nights exists out of drinking alcohol and watching Disney musicals with my co-stars.”

 

“You sing when you shave?” Mickey asked, a genuine smile on his face.

 

Emil nodded, scratching his chin nervously. “It’s a bit silly, really. But I do like my beard, and it saddens me to see it go.”

 

A thoughtful look briefly crossed Mickey’s face, before a determined smile crosses his lips. “Can I guess which song?”

 

“If you sing it,” Emil teased. He hadn’t expected Mickey actually to _sing_ his guess. Neither had he hadn’t expected either that Mickey could sing that well. The brunet had a great voice for singing.

 

“Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me,” the words were a bit shaky as Mickey obviously struggled with nerves.

 

Emil’s surprised expression probably lifted Mickey’s spirit, as the brunet continued on, stronger and surer than before. “Why is my reflection someone I don’t know.”

 

Grinning from ear to ear, Emil applauded. “How did you know,” he asked between laughing, clapping a flustered Mickey on the back.

 

“It was just a guess,” Mickey mumbled.

 

“Really?” Emil quirked an eyebrow. He was sure he never had shared his habit of singing while shaving with the press.

 

Mickey shrugged. “I might like Disney movies too- and if I had facial hair I would defiantlyhave done the same,” a soft chuckle rolled off the brunet’s lips.

 

Starting to feel chilly, Emil excused himself briefly. Feeling his skin prickle, he picked up his abandoned clothes and began to put on the layers of clothing.

 

Enjoying the warmth of his clothes, Emil returns to Mickey. The latter was looking rather thoughtful, scratching his neck probably out of habit.

 

“You want to see mine?” Emil blinked, taking a moment to realise what Mickey was asking. Though that didn’t suppress some rather inappropriate thoughts.

 

“My soul mark I mean,” Mickey hurried, a flush staining his cheeks. “Don’t be such a pervert.”

 

Emil chuckled, scratching his skin. "It's your fault it sounds so suggestive," maybe Chris was a bad influence after all. “But I would love to see your soul mark.”

 

Muttering under his breath, Mickey started to untuck his button-up, trying his best to hide his bright blush. Honestly, Emil found it utterly and completely endearing. Mickey was supposed to be the older _one._

 

"Here it is," Mickey muttered, lifting up his shirt, partly exposing his side.

 

In golden letters- the handwriting a tad messy- was written one word. _Sure_ crossed the man's skin, the gold and the olive skin matching beautifully together.

 

"Those were my first words to you, weren't they?" Emil asked, his fingers itching to touch the soul mark, to see if it was real. But he didn't dare. He didn't want to frighten Mickey or scare him away.

 

Mickey nodded and hurriedly tucked his shirt back into his pants, covering up the soul mark. "I guess we're real soulmates, after all."

 

Emil couldn't figure out whenever Mickey sounded happy or disappointed. It all seemed clear to him, their words matched and thankfully, Mickey didn't dislike him. Actually, Mickey though _Emil_ was out of his league, something he still didn't understand. What made him so special? He was just an actor, not particularly handsome or necessarily famous. Amongst theatre fans, he was somewhat known, but he hadn't reached the level of fame most Hollywood actor's had.

 

"You're not happy?" Emil asked, trying to figure out what was bothering Mickey.

 

"I'm ecstatic," Mickey whispered. "But it's confusing- unlike you, I wasn't looking for my soulmate. I wasn't prepared, for, well-" Mickey gestured to Emil. "This."

 

Emil let out a cheery laughter, rubbing his soulmate reassuring on the back. "It'll be fine- we don't have to hurry- I don't even want to hurry our relationship. We've plenty of time left to fall in love."

 

"Don't say it like that," Mickey squeaked. "It almost sounds like a-"

 

"Promise,” Emil finished. “It's a promise. If you don't mind of course," Mickey quietly nodded, face flustered but happy looking.

 

"Though, make sure you keep your promise," Mickey said sternly, a teasing grin on his lips. "Otherwise I will hunt your sorry ass down and make you wish you never was born."

 

Pouting slightly, Emil let out a disappointed sigh. "Will my ass be sorry before or after you're finished?"

 

"Emil!" Mickey squeaked, hitting the Czech rather hard. "You're such a pervert!"

 

"Have you ever heard yourself? You're basically asking for such replies," Mickey huffed, crossing his arms.

 

"Fine- but we should head back," the brunet moped. "It's already late, and Sara has the morning shift..."

 

Within a matter of seconds, a horrified looking Mickey bolted out of the dressing room, screaming about how he was a terrible brother and had _forgotten_ about his sister. Following the fact he had forgotten about his sister, death treats for anyone who had touched Sara flew around the hallways.

 

Perplexed, but not minding the way thing had turned out, Emil followed Mickey down the hallway. Despite not being able to see him, Emil had no issue hearing him yell. Laughing under his breath, Emil was questioning himself what someone like Mickey would bring to his life. It at least wouldn't be dull, that's for sure.

 

~*~

 

Yuri Plisetsky was lucky he had caring co-stars. When Michele had returned from his talk with Emil, there were only a few people left. Those people mainly had consisted out of the cast, with a few lingering fans here and there, and there was Sara.

 

His sister had been chatting with Mila, an expression of pure and utter delight on her face. Mila too seemed to be extra giggly and gleeful around Sara, and Michele had a feeling there was more going on that he noticed at first. But he didn’t mind Mila, so there was no rush to chase her away. Yuri, however, was an entirely different matter.

 

When Yuri had fired off a particularly rude comment about Sara, Michele had been ready to lunge at the blond, not caring about the consequences. The little blond might look terrifying, but Michele had his height in advantage. 

 

Mid lunge, however, he was hurriedly snatched back, arms wrapping around his stomach. “Mickey, calm down!” Emil cried, struggling to keep a wildly thrashing Mickey in check.

 

“Let him go, Emil,” Yuri hissed, a challenging look in his eyes. “Don’t you think I can take him on?”

 

Infuriated, Michele tried to free himself from Emil’s grip. It was obvious that Emil struggled to keep him in check, the grip soon growing almost painfully tight. “Mickey,” Emil hissed, sounding almost desperate. But Michele refused to give. He was going to let Yuri regret calling Sara _that_.

 

“Chris, come help me!” Emil shouted and soon, an additional set of arms was holding him back. Eventually, Michele stopped struggling. Though his murderous glare didn’t falter. If looks only _could_ kill, Yuri was a dead man.

 

Michele let himself slump against Emil’s chest. He was a grown-ass man, yet this kid could rile him up so much. And surely Sara would be disappointed with him, probably giving him another lecture tonight if she got the opportunity.

 

“Was it so difficult?” Emil muttered, resting his chin on Michele’s head. “Yuri is good at annoying others- almost an expert if you ask me.”

 

Letting out a soft chuckle, Michele briefly forgot that there were others in the room. What did he do to deserve some as Emil to be his soulmate?

 

“Sorry,” Michele muttered, rubbing his thumb over Emil’s bare hand. The Czech still had his arms wrapped around him, though not as tightly as before. “When some insults Sara, I just-”

 

“I understand,” Emil muttered, nuzzling Michele’s hair. “If someone insults my mother- they’re a dead man or woman. I’m not a sexist in this case.”

 

Michele snorted, a small grin formed on his lips. “Are you always this affectionate?”

 

“He is,” Michele almost smashed his head against Emil’s chin in surprise.

 

He had forgotten that there were others. Though, to be fair, he wasn’t sure why he was acting like such a sap all of the sudden. Maybe the drowsiness was to blame- though Michele doubted that this was the case. If someone was to blame, it was Emil. They weren’t even officially dating yet, heck the met less than forty-eight hours ago- but Emil was rather affectionate. And, for once, Michele wasn’t sure if he minded it.

 

Looking around the room, Michele noticed that they had caught the attention of everyone. Yuri was eyeing them with disgust, Sara looked absolutely ecstatic, an expression that was mirrored by Chris. The blond had taken place next to a suited-up guy, one Michele didn’t recognise. Was he part of the behind-the-scene staff? Mila looked gleeful- though she did take up a lot of Sara’s personal space. The rest of the cast was nowhere to be seen, probably already have left the room for some fresh air.

 

“So the two of you are dating?” Chris asked, winking teasingly.

 

“Nope,” Emil hummed. “We’ve just met- we’re taking it slow.”

 

Michele coughed, mutter some inaudible words under his breath. “Say’s the one who is holding me,” he teased. Michele somewhat regretted his statement when Emil let go of him, the air suddenly feeling cold.

 

“I’m very sorry to interrupt this moment,” it was the suited-up guy that talked. “But everyone is asked to leave, this will include the two of you,” he gestured to Sara and him.

 

Wishing Emil a quick farewell, Michele left the room in a hurry. The whole days started to get a bit too much for, the whole _week_. He probably lost a few years of life in the last forty-eight hours, and he surely would lose more once they got home and Sara would bombard him with question well into the night.

 

After they manoeuvred through a few hallways, Sara finally talked, a gleeful expression crossing her face. “I told you that Emil could be your soulmate.”

 

Not giving her the satisfaction she wanted, Michele shrugged in response.

 

Pouting, Sara took her phone from somewhere and started to text, ignoring Michele completely. Not that he minded- he was happy she decided to ignore him. The less he had to talk, the less juicy details he could spill she could gossip about later on.

 

“Oh, I forgot to mention something,” a sly smile played on Sara's lips. “I’ve already planned my wedding.”

 

Michele nearly planted face-first into the wall, forgetting that he had to turn the corner here. “Wedding plans!” he shrieked. “When? Who? If it’s Yuri I-”

 

“It isn’t Yuri, don’t worry,” Sara tucked her phone away, her eyes bright with life and joy. “Don’t you remember my default first-words?”

 

Frowning briefly, Michele tried to recall what Sara’s studied first-words were. He knew his originally was _Will you dance with me under the moonlight?_ Incredibly cheesy but rather unique. Though Michele was happy he didn’t spoke those words to Emil- otherwise Emil wouldn’t have been his soulmate. And, surprisingly, he had liked the sound of it, Emil Nekola as _his_ soulmate.

 

“Let’s get married in Italy?” Michele asked, vaguely recalling the cheesy one-liner Sara had created to tell her soulmate.

 

Sara nodded excitedly. “As she said yes. So now she has no choice but to marry me in Italy, even if the wedding is years away.”

 

“Sara,” he asked slowly, his voice trembling slightly. “Who is _she_?”

 

“Mila, she apparently is my soulmate- isn’t it a coincidence?” Sara beamed. “She wanted to talk with me about you and Emil, but pretty soon we discovered we were soulmates, and well, you can guess what happened next.”

 

Right this very moment, Michele was conflicted on what to do. Congratulate Sara or turn around and run back, starting a long, dreadful argument with Mila that his sister was _off limits_ , soulmate or not.

 

“Congratulations, I guess,” Michele muttered. Maybe it was time to stop clinging to his sister like he depended on her- or at least give her some freedom. The two had just met so it wasn’t like they would move their relationship much further than friendship.

 

“Sweet. Could you take my shift for tomorrow evening? I’ve a dinner date with Mila,” scrap that, Michele would hunt Mila down and tell her somewhat kindly that his sister was off limits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The remaining chapter count can range from 1 chapter till 3 chapter's, this all depends on how well writing them goes. Now I recall why I usually don't write multi-chapter stories, as I'm really struggling with this one. But I defiantly will finish this.
> 
> Feel free to point out mistakes, it's greatly appreciated. Comments are my usual highlight of the day and kudos are also greatly appreciated. (I'm planning to go on an editing spree tomorrow- if I've some time. I already have found some mistakes in the story, but I'm too lazy to fix them currently.)
> 
> The song used in this chapter is _Reflection - Mulan_ (One of my personal favourites)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who is tired and probably missed a lot of mistakes and butchered up the characterization? *this lazy ass*
> 
> I'm not exactly happy with this chapter- I like the next one better. But as it's finished and I didn't see a reason to exclude it, so here you go, enjoy my pile of garbage.

Emil was glad he had a somewhat decent alcohol tolerance. It was before midnight when they were kicked out of a club- Chris was starting to get a bit _too_ obnoxious, annoying other clubbers. Now, heading to a place to crash, Chris was pretty much wasted, leaning heavily on his somewhat tipsy husband. Emil was glad Chris’ husband had tagged along as he had his hands full with Mickey.

 

Mickey, to Emil’s surprise, had agreed to tag-along when had been invited to their annual farewell evening. Which was hitting up clubs, getting wasted and nursing a headache while travelling to their next destination the day after. Though Mickey wouldn’t tag along to their next destination. Emil had enjoyed Mickey’s presence during the evening. That was, of course, until he got shit-faced. Unlike Emil, Mickey had little to no alcohol tolerance.

 

“Are we almost there?” Chris’ husband pleaded. The poor man has been carrying Chris’ deadweight for a solid twenty minutes already.

 

Sara, who was only tipsy, let out a slur of giggles, wrapping her arm around Mila. “We’re nearly there,” she giggled, rubbing her nose affectionately against Mila’s cheek.

 

The redhead, who was equally as tipsy, giggled in response and stuck her cold hand in Sara’s shirt, causing the raven-haired to scream bloody murder.

 

Sara had kindly offered her home, well, her and _Mickey’s_ home, to crash at for the night. Emil was extremely grateful for that. The bill for the taxi would have been ridiculous, and Emil defiantly wasn’t rich enough to afford a taxi whenever he needed one.

 

“Emil,” Mickey whined, nuzzling the Czech’s neck. “It’s so fucking cold.”

 

Squirming under Mickey’s touch, Emil tightening his grip around Mickey’s waist, making sure his soulmate wouldn’t plant face-first into the pavement. “You already have my coat,” Emil remarked, a tender smile on his lips. “And stop attacking my neck, you know I’m ticklish.”

 

Apparently, drunk Mickey was surprisingly affectionate. Muttering something under his breath in _Italian_ \- Emil didn’t even knew that Mickey could speak Italian- Mickey stopped nuzzling his neck. However, soon after, Mickey started to nip at his neck, causing Emil nearly to drop the barista.

 

He never _never_ wanted to deal with a drunk Mickey again, at least not until they were officially dating. Because he wasn’t sure how long he could withhold himself from planting a kiss straight on Mickey’s pretty mouth if the latter kept being so affectionate.

 

It took them another five minutes and a corner to turn till Emil spotted the twins their coffee café. The curtains were drawn, but some light managed to seep past the fabric, lighting up the pavement.

 

Checking his phone with his free hand, Emil saw that the clock was a handful of minutes away from striking twelve. It was weird to see the lights burning, as Sara had assured that the cafe would close at eleven and the employer probably would leave half an hour later. But it seemed that Sara had been mistaken- or the employer had forgotten to shut off the lights.

 

Whatever was going on, Emil was happy to arrive at the doorstep of the café. Fumbling with the keys he had gotten from Mickey, well, _gotten_. He had found the keys in the back pocket from Mickey’s jeans when they were dancing a tad too close to the shitty music the club was playing.

 

Fumbling with the keys, Emil unlocked the entrance door and dragged Mickey inside. The others followed, excited murmurs made their round. It was much warmer inside than outside- the winter air hadn’t been exactly kind to them, to Emil in particular. A sweater did little to keep him warm- but it was better than a whiny and uncooperative Mickey who wanted to have Emil’s coat.

 

Taking in the scenery, Emil though he was transported to some sappy rom-com. A soft, stripped-down love ballet echoed through the café, the singer solely accompanied by a guitar. Two men, Emil doubted that either of them was much older than him, if not younger, were waltzing around the room- looking almost disgustingly in love.

 

The almost breath-taking moment was ruined by Sara’s loud squealing. The raven-haired took a tight hold on Mila’s arm. “My son is growing up,” she sobbed, burying her face into the redhead’s shoulder.

 

Horrified, the two men tore themselves away from each other, both cursing loudly in two different, foreign language. One could’ve been Italian, the man looked enough alike to be related to Sara and Mickey. The other, however, was cursing in a completely unfamiliar language.

 

The smaller man, who on closer inspection looked younger than Emil had expected, glared at Sara. Despite his smaller build, innocent looking face and the bright red flush crossing his cheeks, Emil almost feared him. There was a certain bloodthirst in the man’s eyes that made Emil not want to mess with him.

 

The same man’s eyes wandered over the crowd and eventually settled down on Emil and Mickey. A hint of worry was evident in his eyes. “Michele, how much did you had to drink?”

 

Mickey stirred slightly, his face moved away from Emil’s neck to face the smaller man. “Who are you?” Mickey slurred. “My mom?”

 

“No, but I’m not going to clean up your vomit like last time,” the man scolded, which followed with a slur of British curse-words.

 

Mickey pouted and reluctantly admitted defeat, returning to nuzzle Emil’s neck. The Czech squirmed under Mickey’s touch. His soulmate was going to be the death of him.

 

“I remember that,” Sara giggled. “When he spend the entire evening slurring along to love ballets and drowning more wine than his body could handle,” she recalled, a teasing grin on her lips.

 

“I know, don’t remind me- it was traumatising,” the smaller man replied, rolling his eyes. “I can’t bear to hear another solo rendition of _Serenade for Two_.”

 

Mickey let out a muffled whiny noise against Emil’s neck.

 

“It’s a nice song, though,” the possible relative of the twins admitted. “But I doubt any of them are here to discuss some cheesy love song.”

 

Sara nodded in agreement. “You’re right, I’m pretty tired,” she giggled and leant against Mila. “And as there is little room upstairs, we have to share a bed.”

 

Emil knew this was meant in an innocent manner, but it sounded very lewd. And it seemed that Emil wasn’t the only one who thought like that. Mickey let out a muffled protest and the smaller man downright glared at Sara.

 

“No bed sharing unless you both are sober, related or married,” he lectured. “I’m not risking the _Oh shit no sex before marriage but we’re too drunk_ scenario. Happened once, won’t happen again.”

 

The olive-skinned man raised an eyebrow in surprise. “No sex before marriage?” there was a certain level disappointment and curiosity in his voice.

 

“No sex my ass,” the smaller man snapped. “We either get married within a year-or-so or else I won’t be entering our marriage as a virgin.”

 

It took the smaller man a few moments to let his own response sink in. His face, which already was slightly dusted with red, was now ablaze, every inch of visible skin a deep shade of red. “I sad that out loud,” the man muttered in utter horror.

 

The other man tenderly patted the smaller man on the head before taking over the reins-, which Emil was rather happy for. The possible relative went straight to the point, not even questioning who they were or why there were here.

 

Within a matter of a few minutes, Sara and Mila had taken the lead, manoeuvring between the tables and stacked chairs to head for the living quarters. Seung-gil, who Emil pretty much had forgotten about, followed the two girls, a somewhat amused smile on his face. The olive-skinned man, whose name apparently was Leo, had saved Chris’ husband from Chris’ deadweight. Despite being shorter than Chris, Leo had no issue supporting Chris. Though, Emil wouldn’t be surprised if there were quite some muscles underneath the loose sweater the man wore.

 

It took Sara, Mila and Seung-gil a little effort climbing the small stairs. Leo, Chris and Chris’ husband struggled more- especially was Chris was busy dragging Leo down. Only three people remained at the foot of the stairs. There were Emil, an absentminded Mickey and the smaller male whose name was Guang Hong- or at least he assumed as Leo addressed him by that name. Mickey had sort of dozen off- his head resting on Emil’s shoulder and eyes closed.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Emil asked politely, watching Chris almost trip over nothing.

 

“Sure,” Guang Hong shrugged, a somewhat shy smile on his face.

 

“Is he, I mean Leo,” Emil corrected himself. “Related to the twins?”

 

Guang Hong shook his head. “Thankfully not- I can’t imagine having those two as _family_. Having them as coworkers is already bad enough,” by the light-hearted tone of his voice, Emil guessed that Guang Hong truly cared about the twins.

 

“Speaking about family, I think I’ve to wish you luck- Michele is quite a handful,” a playful grin crossed the man’s face. “At least, I assume you’re his- well, you know...”

 

Emil nodded. “And I guess Leo is yours, right?” a flush made the man’s ears go red.

 

“Soulmate, yes. Is it that obvious?” Emil questioned if this guy was for real. They had been dancing together to a slow love ballet and the whole _no sex before marriage_ thing. This was soulmate behaviour at it’s finest level.

“The two of you are so comfortable around each other,” Emil explained. “I’ve only seen that with soulmates that had been in love for long, the two of you’re so lucky.”

 

Guang Hong laughed merrily, a hint of surprise lingering in his eyes. “Leo and I know each other for a little more than four days,” he admitted.

 

Four. Days. It had taken two people four days to open up to each other, throwing all their barriers down and trust each other fully. Because that’s what soulmates worked towards, feeling like you can be yourself with each other.

 

“That’s insane,” Emil whispered.

 

The man let out an awkward laughter. “I know it’s a bit fast. But it feels right- and it isn't just love. I can’t say yet that I’m in love with Leo, or particularly romantic interested. But I can see myself falling in love with him. Even in a world without soulmates, I could have seen myself befriending Leo and slowly and clumsily fall in love with him.”

 

Emil blinked in surprise. “You’re rather wise for someone your age,” ah, there was that murderous look again.

 

“I’m a little more than half a year younger than you, you old man,” he teased.

 

The Czech raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Wait, what? How do you know?” did this guy know him? Had Mickey just showed a picture of him? That seemed very likely, Mickey didn’t seem to be the type to flaunt his soulmate.

 

“I study theatre,” the man laughed. “I recognise your face immediately. I recognised nearly all of the faces, only not that guy who was with Chris.”

 

“That’s Chris’ husband,” Emil explained.

 

Now, thinking about it, Mickey had mentioned something about one his co-workers studying theatre during one of their texting-sprees. Mickey had surprised when Emil had texted him, but he thankfully hadn’t questioned how Emil had gotten his number.

 

“Guang Hong, you’re coming up?” Leo’s voice came from upstairs.

 

Guang Hong nodded and walked up the stairs, crossing Leo mid set of flights. The theatre student disappeared inside the apartment, and Leo took place next to Mickey, silently offering to take over the burden to drag Mickey up the flight of stairs.

 

“Thanks,” Emil muttered as he handed Mickey over to Leo. Mickey woke briefly, eyes slightly dazed, but he didn’t protest when Leo pulled him along. Finding the light switch, Emil flicked off the light of the break-room, at least, that was what he assumed it was. The entire ground floor was engulfed in darkness, the only light came from door opening of the apartment.

 

Following Leo up the stairs, Emil suppressed a yawn. Usually, he didn’t struggle too much with staying up late, though usually, he didn’t support a full-grown man while walking for a nearly thirty-minute lasting walk.

 

“He likes you, you know,” Leo remarked. “Michele had been in a good mood ever since he returned from the play- I think you make him happy, how I don’t know,” the brunet let out a low chuckle. “But I never had seen him smile at his phone this much before, unless it was Sara who texted him of course.”

 

Mickey mumbled something inaudible, too far gone to really pick up anything. But Emil, who was solely tipsy, felt his face heat up.

 

“Really?” Emil winched slightly hearing the disbelief in his own voice.

 

Leo hummed in agreement. “Yes- and it takes a lot to make this guy happy. Even Guang Hong, who can brighten most people their day within a matter of minutes, never managed to make Michele smile like that.”

 

“So I basically got your blessing?” Emil chuckled. It almost sounded as if Leo was giving Emil blessings for marriage.

 

“Pretty much,” Leo admitted. “Michele needs to get laid, no twenty-eight-year-old should be this dependent on his sister,” he muttered, hoisting Mickey up on the landing.

 

Emil chuckled but decided not to comment further. He had promised Mickey to take things slow, and so they would. And it wasn’t as they were in a hurry either. They had their whole life in front of them.

 

Guang Hong and Leo had decided that the two twins would sleep together to maximise the bed-space they had to offer, as Guang Hong stubbornly stuck to his _Not sleeping together unless you’re related, sober or married_ rule. After Emil and Leo had dropped Mickey off in his sister’s bedroom, the two awkwardly hung around in the hallway.

 

“So where will I stay?” Emil asked curiously. There were three bedrooms, one occupied by the twins and the other by Chris and his husband. So, if he was lucky, he might score the third bedroom. He didn’t mind sharing a bed with anyone, to be honest, it wasn’t like they had to squeeze themselves in a single-bed. They all were properly sized double beds.

 

“Living-room,” Emil briefly checked his phone and saw that it was well past twelve. “As it’s already late- too late to head home, me and Guang Hong will be staying here too, and as the only ones sober, we’ll hog Mickey’s bedroom. We’ve to get up early anyway tomorrow, school and such.”

 

Emil nodded in understanding and pitied the two. Sara had mentioned they had to arrange someone to take over their evening shift and said the person hadn’t been too happy. And the Czech could understand. He had studied too, and worked. And he was never happy if he had to take the Sunday evening shift.

 

“Well, good night,” the Czech muttered before splitting up from Leo.

 

Mila and Seung-gil already had occupied the two couches in the living room, the latter already vast asleep. Mila happily chattered with Guang Hong, who was dressing up a randomly placed mattress on the floor. Probably his bed, as nothing else seemed to be suitable to sleep on.

 

“I’ll take it from here,” Emil offered Guang Hong a kind smile. “Go to bed- I heard you’ve school tomorrow.”

 

Guang Hong nodded gratefully, handing Emil the rest of the bed linen before living the living room.

 

After making up his bed in a hurry, Emil got rid of most of his clothes until nothing but his underwear remained. Crawling in bed, Emil looked up at the ceiling, feeling far from tired. Less than a week ago, he met his soulmate in this building. And despite not dating yet, he had started a relationship with said soulmate, even if it was just a friendship. Though, those happy memories probably would end soon, as tomorrow, scrap that, today, he had to pack and leave for the next city to perform. It would be at least a solid three months before Emil could see Mickey face-to-face again. And not to mention that his manager probably would strangle him for not returning to the hotel.

 

The latter though caused Emil to chuckle softly.

 

“What’s so funny?” Mila asked, curiosity lingering in her voice.

 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” Emil sniggered. “Just the thought of my manager probably killing me tomorrow.”

 

A nervous hissing sound escaped Mila’s lips. “I think the fact that Chris’ husband is with us makes this less worse,” she remarked. “Though I think preparing myself mentally for what’s to come wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

 

Emil hummed agreement. His manager defiantly would kill him tomorrow, but in the end, all things considered, it was worth it. Even as Mickey had been wasted for at least half of the evening. He was happy he had managed to spend quite some time with Michele, despite their clashing work schedules.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Italian and Spanish aren't the same language, but for a foreigner, it all sounds the same. (It least, for me, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese sound pretty much the same, French is excluded because I had that language in high school)
> 
> Originally, this chapter was an additional 2/3k longer, but I decided to cut it in two. So within a few days the next and somewhat final chapter will be posted. (There will be an epilogue and maybe some additional one-shots.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You might forget about me- I’m not particular... rememberable,” Michele put on his best smile. “But I’ve something I want to give you- something that makes sure you won’t forget about me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit late, but with the overall lack of motivation or response on this work, I was a little demotivated to continue. Anyway, it's still there, so I hope you'll enjoy.

Michele woke to the blaring of his alarm. Bleary eyed and feeling exhausted, he unplugged his phone from its charger and checked the time. Seven-forty in the morning. A Monday morning, which was his shift. And the shop supposed to open by seven...

 

Cursing under his breath, Michele kicked off the blankets and practically jumped out of his bed. An acute wave of dizziness followed, making his vision grow black and forced him to sit back down on his bed.

 

Regaining his vision, Michele stared at the wall, a frown evident on his face. This wasn’t his room, his walls weren’t _purple_ , though, it did look familiar. It probably was Sara’s room.

 

Despite clearing up one issue, Michele still didn’t know _why_ he was in Sara’s room. He did recall managing to get home, well, with a bit of help of Emil. But after that, it was all a bit foggy.

 

Feeling well enough to get up again, the brunet left his side of the bed. The other half of the bed was occupied by Sara, who was completely out cold. Whatever had happened last evening- or night, Michele wasn’t sure when they left the club, things seemed to be handled well. Well enough that both he and Sara had ended up bed.

 

Barefooted, wearing only a pair of loose boxer shorts and an undershirt, Michele snuck out of Sara’s bedroom. The hallways looked promising. No trash lingering around nor any pieces of clothing. On each door was a sticky note, and on closer inspection, Michele recognised his co-worker’s handwriting.

 

Each room was labelled, this even included his own bedroom. _Unoccupied_ the note read, and curiously yet cautious, Michele pushed open the door. His bed was completely bare, a set of extra linen was neatly stacked at the feet of the mattress. His own blanket and pillows were nowhere to be found- he suspected they had ended up in Sara’s room. He seriously started to question what happened, no group of uncoordinated drunks could have pulled off a thoroughly organised sleep-over.

 

After getting dressed- he still had the morning shift and keeping the customer’s waiting much longer was suicide. Most of them were students, after all, needing their daily fix of caffeine to start their day.

 

Around seven-fifty, Michele snuck out of his own room and headed to the small kitchen, living and dining space. One of the couches was occupied by a bundle of blankets and a mop of red hair. Mila, probably. Michele did wonder why she was here. On the other couch was a neatly stacked pile of blankets and cushion’s- whoever had slept there was at least decent enough to clean their own mess.

 

Making his way over to the kitchen, he managed to nearly trip over a randomly placed mattress on the floor.

 

Cursing under his breath, Michele narrowly missed stepping right on someone’s hand. _Emil’s_ hand. Blinking in surprise, Michele couldn’t tear his gaze from Emil’s face. The Czech was sleeping peacefully, arms wrapped tightly around his blanket. There was some drool sticking to the side of his soulmate’s face, and the man’s hair was a birds nest. Why the hell was Emil here too? And secondly, why was this guy so cute?

 

Emil was a grown-ass man, he shouldn’t be this cute. Yet, Michele wanted to do nothing more than wipe away the drool and re-arrange the Czech’s hair. He was definitely, one hundred percent, smitten with this guy- and they even hadn’t started _dating_ yet. This was supposed to be their ‘becoming friends’ stage or their relationship.

 

Somewhat regretfully abandoning Emil, Michele grabbed some fruit from the fruit bowl and headed downstairs, seeing what damage he had left behind. This definitely would be terrible for their sales- the Monday mornings were the worst, as nobody was ready for another week of school.

 

Once he entered the café, however, he noticed that it was buzzing with life. A solid line of sleep deprived students run trough the café, here and there were a few tables occupied. But as it was a Monday morning, most people would order it on the go.

 

Noticing the bleary-eyed figure of Seung-gil sitting at the bar, Michele gave the Korean a curt nod of reorganisation. “Morning,” he muttered before changing his direction to the next person.

 

Guang Hong was handing the next customer their drink, a sympathetic smile crossing his face. His co-worker looked dead, dark bags underneath his eyes, his hair ruffled. His usual garment was replaced by a track-suit, which looked while comfortable, not necessary fit for school-

 

“Don’t you have school?” Michele questioned, checking his time. It was a few minutes shy of eight and, if he recalled correctly, Guang Hong had school at eight-thirty.

 

 His co-worker nodded and started to prepare the next order. “Leo will pick me up a bit after eight,” Guang Hong explained, throwing some chocolate sprinkles in the cup. “So, if you could put on an apron and take over _your_ shift, it would be greatly appreciated.”

 

The additional pair of hands did wonders for the never-ending line, which finally started to shrink. By the time Leo entered the shop- tired-looking but appropriately dressed for school, there were only a few people left in line.

 

Guang Hong picked up a duffle bag and his schoolbag and slipped out his apron. “Expect me back around four,” he announced. “My bike is still here, and I _do_ need that thing.”

 

Without much thought, Michele wished the student goodbye and handed the next customer their cup of coffee. Only when the morning rush had ended, Michele got the opportunity to gather his thought.

 

Why was Guang Hong’s bike here anyway? He needed his bike to get home, it was still a twenty-minute trip on the bike to Guang Hong’s home. Michele wondered how the student managed to get home yesterday. Had Leo brought him home?

 

Trying to distract himself, Michele looked for someone to talk with. He was craving to talk with someone and getting his questions answered. But the only person available to talk with was Seung-gil, and the actor wasn’t exactly talkative.

 

“Want a refill?” Michele offered the actor, noticing the empty mug.

 

“Yes please,” Seung-gil pushed to Michele over the counter top. “Black is fine.”

 

Though curious by the actor’s choice in coffee, Michele hadn’t the stomach to drink black coffee, he refilled the mug with scalding hot coffee without complaining and handed it back to the actor.

 

“Rough morning?” he was still going to try to talk with someone, even if that someone was Seung-gil, _I don’t have emotions,_ Lee.

 

Without even flinching, Seung-gil drowned at least a quarter of his coffee in one go. “Headache,” he muttered in response.

 

Michele did recall Seung-gil drinking quite a bit, probably out of regret tagging along with them. Though, the Korean hadn’t seemed particularly drunk when they left- though Michele admittedly didn’t exactly recall _what_ went down. How he ended up home, safe-and-well, was one of the many mysteries that plagued his mind.

 

Before Michele could question Seung-gil further, a small slew of customers flooded in. Returning back to his job, Michele had little time to ponder. A few of his customers tried to talk to Seung-gil, who was far from happy with the attention he got. Especially the attention he had gotten from the _females_.

 

“Hurry off, don’t bother my customer’s,” Michele scolded half-heartedly, hushing the group of girls to one of the tables. Giggling and mouthing Seung-gil a _call me_ , the girls wandered off, settling down at a close-by table.

 

If Seung-gil looked exhausted before, he looked downright dead now.

 

“Another cup?” Michele offered, somewhat pitying the man. He knew the girls, they often visited their café and they _loved_ to check out other men.

 

“Fuck yes,” Seung-gil groaned, pushing the empty mug towards Michele.

 

This time, Seung-gil managed to drown the cup in one go. It was almost inhuman.

 

A long silence stretched between the two.

 

“Why did you tag along?” Michele eventually asked to break the silence. “I mean, you were pretty much the third wheel, with the rest being each other’s soulmates and such...” well, this was awkward. “Wouldn’t it be boring?”

 

Seung-gil shrugged. “To find him, obviously,” there was a certain air of _that’s common sense_ in the Korean’s voice.

 

 _Him_ obviously referred to Seung-gil’s soulmate. Michele wondered why the actor referred his soulmate as _him._ Usually, the term _them_ was used, as very little people knew the gender of their soulmate. But maybe Seung-gil already knew that his soulmate was a male. Emil had mentioned he was pretty much convinced his soulmate had been male.

 

“Why _him_ and not _them_?” Michele asked nonchalant, trying his best to hide his curiosity.

 

Seung-gil rolled his eyes, an annoyed expression on his face. “Does it look like I like women?”

 

No. It was clear that Seung-gil didn’t like women. It was pretty uncommon for someone being interested in only one particular gender. Most people remained open-minded about their soulmates gender, as someone’s gender was only a small part of who they were.

 

“I understand,” Michele answered curtly.

 

He wanted to ask _why_. Why did Seung-gil want to find his soulmate? But Michele just knew. Even as living as a bachelor was slowly getting accepted in society, most people had settled down with their soulmate in their mid-twenties. There were only a few people who either hadn’t found their loved one or had announced that they would live their life as a bachelor.

“It’s getting lonely, isn’t it,” Michele mentioned casually. The way Seung-gil reacted, his eyes briefly lit up in recognising, the slight quiver in his stoic expression, Michele knew he had hit the nail on its head.

 

“Everyone around you finds their soulmate and settle down, living a sweet, disgustingly cute life. Or they have a hot sex life, depends on the people,” Michele shrugged indifferently. “Anyway. And then you remain being left behind, lonely because everyone you care about has found another to care about. You’re no longer the centre of someone’s universe because someone else has taken your place.”

 

“That’s pretty deep for someone who sells coffee for a living,” Seung-gil remarked.

 

Michele blinked in surprise. Seung-gil had spoken more than _four_ words to him. Though it wasn’t a particular comment he was happy about.

 

“Not everyone is as lucky as you,” Michele snapped, snatching up Seung-gil’s mug and refilled it. “There you go,” he muttered, placing the cup in front of the Korean.

 

“Or unlucky,” the Korean remarked, sipping his coffee. “You’ve found the one, I haven’t.”

 

Seung-gil gestured to the door opening, though it was so subtle that Michele almost missed it. Finally getting the hint, Michele changed his focus from the Korean to the door opening.

 

Emil’s hair was messy, and his clothes were crumpled, but that took very little away from the man’s beauty. Unlike Michele and Seung-gil, who had been scolding the whole morning, Emil looked chipper, a bright smile adorning his face.

 

“Morning,” the Czech yawned, ruffling his messy hair. “Surprised to see you awake.”

 

Michele blinked in surprise. “I’ve the morning shift,” he said curtly. “Of course I’ve to be awake,” he was going to leave out the fact that Guang Hong was the one who had opened up the café. It wasn’t like Emil _knew_ Guang Hong.

 

Chuckling in response, Emil slipped from behind the bar and took a seat next to Seung-gil. The same group of girls shifted their attention to Emil, giggling and pointing. While Emil wasn’t paying attention, Michele glared at the group and pointed at Emil before pointing back at himself.

 

This resulted in a series of whistles, cooing and one poor girl who choked on her drink, her face pulled in utter surprise.

 

“Where are Leo and Guang Hong?” the Czech asked curiously. “They already left?”

 

Michele frowned in confusion. Leo and Guang Hong? Left? And how did Emil even knew their names? “Guang Hong had left a bit after eight,” he answered in confusion. “How do you know them anyway?”

 

Emil blinked in surprise. “They were still in the café when we arrived last evening, they _organised_ the whole sleepover,”  the Czech explained.

 

That explained so much. As far as Michele recalls, Leo came from a large family and was one of the older, more responsible kids. So handling a small group of drunk babies surely was a piece of cake. There was no doubt either that they also crashed his and Sara’s place, as Guang Hong was always welcome to crash their place if he had the evening shift.

 

“That explains a lot,” Michele eventually muttered, realising that Emil was waiting for a reaction. “When will you leave?” he asked, swallowing nervously.

 

“We’ll be leaving at nine,” Emil replied, a sad smile on his face. “My manager would kill me if I don’t return before ten.”

 

Checking the wall clock, Michele realised that he would have less than twenty minutes with Emil before he had to continue his tour. It would take another three months before the two of them could see each other in real life, which saddened him.

 

“I see,” Michele muttered, scratching his neck nervously. In the span of a few days, he had gotten accustomed to Emil’s presence. Seeing him disappear like that was, well, odd.

 

“I’ll make sure to text you,” the Czech announced chipper. “And face-time of course- I don’t think I can survive three months without seeing your handsome face.”

 

Seung-gil made some gagging noises, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. Michele managed to choke on basically nothing, coughing loudly as he processed what Emil just had said.

 

Almost glaring at Emil- he couldn’t really be mad for such a comment- Michele’s eyes fell upon Emil’s neck. One side of the Czech’s neck was slightly red, raw, with small red spots covered nearly every inch of his skin.

 

“Emil, what happened to your neck,” somewhat uncomfortable, Michele rubbed his own neck, hoping that it wasn’t in the same state as Emil’s.

 

The Czech blinked a few times, followed by a thoughtful look. “You mean this?” he asked, rubbing the tender-looking skin.

 

Michele nodded.

 

“You don’t recall?” an adoring smile crossed Emil’s lips. “You’re kind of affectionate when you’re drunk.”

 

Well, now seemed to be a good time to start digging his own grave.

 

“I’m sorry,” Michele squeaked, a flush running across his cheeks. “I didn’t realise, I-”

 

Emil chuckled and gestured for Michele to stop talking. “It’s fine, really. It’s cute.”

 

This man was downright unbelievable.

 

Michele was glad to hear the bell chime, announcing the next customer. Ignoring the inappropriate thoughts, pushing them to the background, Michele greeted the customer with as much cheer as he could muster.

 

Sadly enough, after he finished with the customer, the next one arrived. Only a few minutes before nine the stream of customers stopped. By now, the entire group of club-goers had gotten downstairs, dressed up and ready to leave. Sara was taking her sweet time wishing Mila goodbye, their hands touching each other more times than necessary.

 

Taking a deep breath, Michele took out the _lunch break_ sign and placed it on the counter. He wouldn’t let Emil leave without saying a proper goodbye.

 

“Emil, could we, you know,” Michele gestured to the back, where they surely had more privacy than in the middle of the café.

 

The Czech looked up from his phone, pausing the game he was playing. “Sure,” he singsonged.

 

Nobody batted an eye at them when the two disappeared in the back. Michele stopped in the small kitchen, turning around to face Emil. He was probably going to lose a few years of his life during this conversation.

 

“I’m going to miss you,” Michele muttered, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

 

“So will I,” Emil answered sombrely. “But I promise I’ll come back.”

 

Michele bit his lips. Fearful thoughts crossed his minds, thoughts that shouldn’t even _be_ there. “And what if you don’t want to return?” he eventually asked.

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to return?” Emil actually sounded confused.

 

Daring to look up, meeting the Czech’s gaze, Michele saw the confusion reflected in the man’s blue eyes.

 

“You might forget about me- I’m not particular... rememberable,” Michele put on his best smile. “But I’ve something I want to give you- something that makes sure you won’t forget about me.”

 

A curious look crossed Emil’s face. The expression wavered slightly as Michele didn’t attempt to grab anything, curiosity being replaced by confusion.

 

Taking a deep breath, Michele took Emil’s face in a somewhat tight hold and planted his lips against Emil’s. Repressing the urge to deepen the kiss, Michele kept the kiss brief, soon letting go of the Czech’s face.

 

“There,” he muttered, feeling his face growing steadily warmer. “Now you have a reason to come back.”

 

Emil remained rooted on the spot for a while, a steady blush covering his face. Then, in a swift movement, he dipped down, one hand buried itself in Michele’s hair while the other gently cradled Michele’s face and oh-

 

Noses bumped, teeth clashed before it turned into a proper kiss. Instinctively, Michele clutched onto Emil’s coat, pulling him closer.

 

By the time the two parted, Michele was completely out of breath. Breathing shallowly, he started to pull his thoughts together. Making out with Emil hadn’t been part of his plan- though it was a pleasant turn of events.

 

“I’m sorry,” Emil muttered. “I shouldn’t have done that- I promised to take it slow.”

 

“It’s fine, really, it’s my fault any,” assured Michele. “Plus, it was nice, aside from the teeth, I could do without that.”

 

The Czech let out a nervous laugh, scratching his chin. “So this means if I come back, I could expect a welcome kiss?”

 

“If you return, yes, I’ll welcome you home with a kiss.”

 

Michele was sure he had lost a few years of his life during the conversation, but Emil’s ecstatic smile was all worth it. He couldn’t wait for February when Emil would return back to Michele’s boring, small hometown. Surely, once Emil had returned, it surely wouldn’t be as boring anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left after this one. Maybe I'll do a few spin-off one-shots, but that highly depends on the overall response.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Could I stay for dinner?"
> 
> "Would you like to stay forever?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not particularly happy with the beginning but definitely satisfied with the ending. This chapter/part was supposed to be around 1k, but, apparently, I'm incapable of writing anything short. So now this thing is a 3k monster. 
> 
> Somehow I always have to include some Leoji... welp. Prepare for 2/3k of awkward flirting and a cheesy reunion.

That Guang Hong was in a terrible mood was an understatement. He had slept terribly for that last week, college was getting tougher and tougher, and his working schedule was insane. Above all, Leo wasn’t around to cheer him up. His boyfriend had gone on a school trip to New York for an entire week, which meant he suddenly had to live in their shared apartment on his own. The first day had been fine, he had been a bit lonely. But ever since the second day... things had went downhill.

 

To make matters worse, he had the Sunday morning shift and had to _babysit_ their new recruit. Minami wasn’t a bad kid. He was hard working and caught on fast, it was only the odd orders the blond needed help with. This, however, meant that someone had to be on standby. Unsurprisingly, that person had been him. Though, to be fair, Guang Hong felt like he was almost running this place by now. Both Sara and Michele suddenly got better things to do than attending _their_ coffee café.

 

With a groan Guang Hong flipped the page of his study book and started to jot down a new list of relevant facts about William Shakespeare. It was incredibly boring, but he just _couldn’t_ afford to fluke the test. Not if he wanted to spend some quality time with his boyfriend when he _finally_ returned from New York next Tuesday. It would’ve been this Sunday if it wasn’t for the snowstorm that had engulfed America yesterday.

 

Stopping mid-sentence, Guang Hong noticed hurried feet approached. It probably was Minami who had gotten an odd order and didn’t knew what to do. Though, as it was a Sunday morning and the village was covered in thick layer of snow, Guang Hong questioned who in their right would go out to buy some fancy-ass cup of coffee. Probably some high schooler who thought that Starbucks was the best thing in the world next to Instagram and scented candles.

 

“Guang Hong,” the blond panted as he stumbled into the room. “What must I do if the item isn’t on the menu?”

 

Groaning, the brunet capped his pencil and got up, facing the barista. “You tell them we don’t sell that product,” he calmly explained, but it seemed that this answer didn’t suffice Minami’s curiosity.

 

“They ordered something really weird- I don’t even think it even exists!” Minami exclaimed. Giving the student the go-ahead, Guang Hong waited for Minami to explain what had peaked his attention.

 

“He ordered a ‘Michele Crispino’. Does that means he wants to see the boss?” Minami asked curiously. “If that’s the case, though,” he continued, cocking his head slightly. “Why wouldn’t he just asks if he can speak with the boss?”

 

Guang Hong pondered briefly, questioning who want to request to see Michele like that. Michele didn’t exactly has a lot of friends, and not many business people visited the café, if none at all. The café was mainly student-fuelled. Guang Hong, however, did recall that Emil was supposed to arrive next weekend.

 

“What did he look like?” Guang Hong asked, testing his theory. It could be possible that this guy was crazy enough to arrive earlier than promised _and_ ask for something so silly. He was at least crazy enough to genuinely like Michele.

 

“Tall, blue eyes, blond-brown hair. He has a beard- and oh,” Minami’s eyes lit up. “He sounds a bit like you, with the British accent that isn’t entirely British.”

 

Guang Hong knew enough. He could be wrong, of course, but everything did match. And, noticing his boss his rapidly growing grumpy mood, he was willing to do everything to get that stick out of Michele’s ass.

 

~*~

 

Emil wasn't sure what made him happier. The fact that he had returned to that one faithful town where his life had changed or that he finally could stretch his legs.

 

It had been a three hours flight to get to the closest by airport and due to the snowfall, he had to travel with the public transport. The taxis only were available for the people with a lot of money, money he didn't had. Maybe, in the end, spending that extra money hadn’t been such a bad idea. His legs wouldn’t at least feel as cramped as they currently fell.

 

The freshly fallen snow crunched under his feet as he created some distance between himself and the bus. A few more people left the bus and even more people pushed themselves into the cramped space. Stretching his tired legs, Emil took in the surrounding.

 

The village was covered from head-to-toe in snow, making it almost look like Emil had entered winter wonderland. The trees were bare but coated with snow, footprints littered the pavement, and here and there, he saw children running around, rolling and playing in the snow.

 

Securing his gloves, scarf and beanie, Emil headed off, dragging his luggage through the thick layer of snow. While not knowing for sure, Emil was confident that he knew where to find the small coffee café. If not so, he definitely could use his navigation or ask the locals. The only thing he hoped was that he didn't want to walk into a familiar figure, he wanted to keep his presence a secret. Mickey didn’t expect him to arrive for another week after all.

 

Thankfully, nobody battered an eye at him. However, his luck ended there. A misaimed snowball managed to him in his neck, resulting in him into screaming like a girl. The kids had apologised repeatedly, and he truly couldn't blame them, but it didn't make up for the cold water running down his back. To make matters worse, the snow soon started to grow too thick, which meant he had to carry his heavy luggage. By the time he arrived at the small coffee café, he was ready to crash down on a bed and don't get up until afternoon.

 

Putting his luggage down, Emil pushed open the door. The chimed of a bell echoed through the shop, announcing his presence. Brushing off as much snow as he could, Emil ventured further into the café. There were a few customers here and there, but it was far from busy. It came to no surprise to him. It was a Sunday morning which means most people were sleeping in, especially with weather like this.

 

Behind the bar was a new face, which made Emil almost whoop in joy. Sara, Mickey or even that other guy whose name he had forgotten would recognise him immediately. However, this guy surely wouldn't. Unless he was a fan of theatre.

 

The barista didn't look much older than twenty, with blond hair and a random red-coloured streak. He greeted Emil with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shimmering with life and joy. What had gotten him in such a good mood? Maybe he was one of the few people who _enjoyed_ working Sunday morning.

 

"Morning," Emil yawned, waving slightly.

 

"Morning," the barista replied chipper. "What can I get for you, sir?"

 

Emil almost felt sorry for the barista. _Almost_. Grinning, Emil propped his elbows on the counter and leant his head into his hands, somewhat invading the barista’s personal space.

 

"One Michele Crispino please," Emil ordered calmly, like if he ordered this on a daily base.

 

The barista grew red in the face, the first few words he spoke were an inaudible mess. "Do you mean a Cappuccino, sir," the blond asked nervously.

 

"Nope," Emil chirped. "A Michele Crispino is what I ordered."

 

Flustered, the barista excused himself to fetch a co-worker. A few minutes later, the barista returned with a familiar face. It was Mickey’s co-worker whose name Emil still couldn’t recall.

 

"I'll take him from here, Minami," the student told the barista. "And don't worry, these things don't happen...often," the brunet threw a subtle glare Emil's way.

 

Emil moved out of the line and walked over to where the student stood.

 

"One 'Michele Crispino' please? Seriously?" the student deadpanned. “Couldn’t you ask to see Michele like a normal person?”

 

Emil shrugged, a faint hue or red crossing his cheeks. “It sounded funny in my head,” he admitted.

 

“It was kind of funny,” the man admitted, a weak smile on his face. “Though right now you should be happy that I don’t strangle you to death because you distracted me from my work,” Emil almost believed the student.

 

There was definitely something going on with this guy, and Emil doubted that it was _just_ college. Where was this guy’s soulmate anyway? Mickey had complained many times that they were terribly gross in front of the customers. They are practically joined at the hip if he had to believe Mickey.

 

“Where is...” Emil frowned, trying to recall that other man’s name. Somehow Emil managed to _recall_ his name. “Leo? Anyway, where is Leo? Mickey said that two of you were basically joined at the hip.”

 

How much he regretted asking that. The student stared at him blankly before starting to tear up. Emil threw the barista called Minami a panic-stricken look, but the blond just shrugged helplessly in response.

 

After a few long, drawn-out seconds, Emil did what he knew best. Comforting people. After shooting the barista an apologetic look, Emil slipped behind the counter and pulled the student into a hug.

 

“It’ll be okay,” Emil hushed, awkwardly rubbing the brunets back. He didn’t even know what was going on- but it surely had something to do his soulmate.

 

The brunet sobbed, clutching onto Emil’s coat. He was surprised that none of the customers was watching them- maybe this wasn’t the first time the poor student had broken down in tears. “I miss him,” the brunet wheezed. “It’s so lonely without him.”

 

Now Emil definitely didn’t know what to do. Did they break up? Emil doubted it, as far as he had heard from Mickey, the two fell more in love as the days passed by. Not that this conclusion cleared much up- he usually knew how to handle people. However, to be fair, most of the times he knew what was going on.

 

The next minute or so passed by in a flurry of emotions, limbs and noises. The bell chimed, there was a loud thud of something falling on the ground which was followed by loud, hurried footsteps.

 

A dead-looking Leo was basically running through the café, bumping into tables and chairs, stumbling over pretty much nothing. The student looked like had hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours, hair a mess, clothes crumpled, evident bags under his eyes.

 

Though not fully grasping the situation yet, Emil released the sobbing student from his embrace. Gently prying the man’s hands of his coat, Emil grabbed the student’s shoulders firmly and turned him around. There was a gasp, followed by a loud wailing noise that sounded like _babe_ , an additional pair of footsteps and a crash.

 

The student had basically launched himself at his boyfriend, sending both of them tumbling down in a heap of limbs. There came an annoyed groan from the back, followed by a familiar voice.

 

“What the fuck is going on here?” _Mickey_.

 

Minami started to babble, his face growing the same shade of red as his fringe. “I don’t know boss, I-” the blond rambled, but Mickey cut him off almost immediately.

 

“It’s fine,” Mickey snapped. “And you, no customers behind the bar.”

 

Emil blinked and turned around, coming face-to-face with Mickey. The scowl on the man’s faded like snow in the sun. His expression, however, remained blank, his lips parted in surprise.

 

“Mick-”

 

Fingers grabbed his coat and pulled him forward. Noses briefly brushed against each other before their lips met in a sudden kiss.

 

Emil honestly could say he was overwhelmed. Yes, he had expected a kiss, Mickey had promised him a welcome-home kiss after all. He hadn’t expected it to be this, well... intense.

 

A particularly embarrassed moan rumbled in the back of his throat when Mickey plunged his tongue into his mouth. Emil was pretty sure Mickey hadn’t any romantic partners before him, yet it felt like Mickey had years upon him when it came to sexual experience. Or he fluked the whole thing. This was what Emil probably would have done.

 

Embarrassed, Emil tapped Mickey’s shoulder, mentally pleading a time-out. He couldn’t breathe, and, to be fair, breathing was kind of necessary for survival.

 

When they parted, Emil felt dizzy, probably due to lack of oxygen.

 

“You’re okay?” Mickey worried, gently placing a hand on Emil’s shoulder.

 

“I'm all right,” Emil breathed. “Just out of breath,” he added, struggling to collect his breath to prove his point.

 

Mickey chuckled. “I missed you,” he murmured, withdrawing his hand and replacing it with his head.  

Smiling endearingly, Emil wrapped his arms around Mickey. The latter’s body tensed briefly, before eventually relaxing.

 

“You’re unbelievable,” Emil muttered, rubbing the man’s back. “You can kiss me senseless, but a hug is too much?”

 

“Oh shut up,” Mickey muttered half-heartedly, clutching onto the back of Emil’s coat.

 

“Boss!” Minami’s confident voice made Mickey pull away, scowling slightly.

 

“What!” the man snapped, glaring at his co-worker.

 

“Uhm, sir-” the blond coughed, blushing brightly. “Rule eleven, remember? No PDA? You made that rule when, you know,” Minami awkwardly gestured to the two brunets who were still sprawled on the ground.

 

“You’re right,” Mickey mumbled awkwardly, a blush darkening his cheeks.

 

“Guang Hong, you’re free to go and please,” the stern tone of Mickey’s voice didn’t match his somewhat endearing expression. “And take that mess of a boyfriend with you.”

 

There was shuffling around from limbs, the whispers of muted voices and the sniffling of running noses before the two brunets brushed pass Emil and Mickey to the back, probably gathering Guang Hong’s belonging.

 

“Minami?” Mickey asked gently. “Do you think you can handle your shift till Sara takes it over from you?”

 

The blond nodded furiously, pride evident on his face. “I definitely can, boss!” the man nearly jumped into a solider-like position. In the end, he managed to smack himself in the face.

 

Mickey flashed a brief smile Minami’s way, though Emil immediately noticed that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Come,” the man murmured, tugging the sleeve of Emil’s coat.

 

Grabbing his suitcase, Emil followed his friend into the back of the shop. Or was it boyfriend? Emil wasn’t exactly sure where they were standing in their relationship. They definitely had passed the friendship part of their relationship- friends didn’t kiss each other like that.

 

Grabbing Mickey’s hand, Emil forced his soulmate to slow down. Eventually, the two came to a halt in a small space- a storage room by the looks of it. “Where are we standing?” Emil asked.

 

Mickey turned around to face Emil, an eyebrow was already raised in mild amusement. “In a storage room,” the man answered, a teasing grin tracing his lips.

 

Growing flustered in the face, Emil averted his gaze. “I mean relationship-wise,” he muttered.

 

Emil’s heart fluttered when Mickey squeezed his hand. “I know,” the man murmured. “And as I _refused_ to let you friend zone me again,” glancing at Mickey, Emil noticed that the man was blushing furiously. “I think that we could, you know, be boyfriends?”

 

It almost sounded like a suggestion. If _he_ , Emil, wanted, they could be boyfriends. “Only if you want,” he muttered, gathering the courage to look his possible-boyfriend in the eyes. “I mean- if you want to date me, of course!”

 

“Fuck yes,” Mickey breathed, throwing his arms around Emil’s neck, pulling the Czech closer. “I’ve been dying to hear that.”

 

Bursting with happiness, Emil cupped Mickey’s face in his free hand and placed a subtle kiss on the man’s lips. “I love you,” he murmured. It felt silly- they just started dating. But he couldn’t imagine a life without Mickey, whenever the man was physically at his side or not. They had spoken almost daily during their time apart, talking about their days. Emil loved seeing Mickey get excited or flustered over things, especially the things he was passionate about.

 

“Your beard tickles,” Mickey muttered, tugging Emil’s beard. “I liked you more without your beard.”

 

Emil pouted. “But I like my beard,” he whined. He had to shave for his job, and he had hoped that during his time off he could grow out his beard. But if Mickey didn’t like it, he might have to start shaving again.

 

Mickey subtly smiled and pressed a kiss on Emil’s pouted lips. “I know,” he murmured against Emil’s lips. “You don’t have to shave for me, I know you love your beard,” a soft chuckle followed. “I mean, you _sing_ about an identity crisis when you shave.”

 

Laughing, Emil nuzzled Mickey’s neck, making the man giggle.

 

“That tickles,” Mickey wheezes, softly pushing Emil’s head away. “Stop it,” followed half-heartedly.

 

Listening to his _boyfriend’s_ plea, Emil stepped back but didn’t let go of Mickey’s hand.

 

“I like you too,” Mickey mumbled after a brief moment of silence.

 

It wasn’t the _love you_ Emil had uttered, but Emil also knew he was much more affectionate than Mickey. Mickey’s answer was already a lot for a man who wasn’t even looking for love when they first met. And sooner or later, those words surely would change into an _I_ _love you_.

 

“So, um,” Emil awkwardly scratched his beard. “Could I stay for dinner? And maybe for the night? I know I had told you I would return next week but-”

 

Mickey interrupted him, a subtle grin on his face. “Would you like to stay forever?”

 

The Czech blinked stupidly, staring at his boyfriend. Forever? He would love to, but he also has a job and- “I’ve a job,” he replied in a low mutter.

 

“I was just kidding,” Mickey chuckled. “But you can stay for the night, we’ve quite a comfortable couch. Well, on second thought-”

 

Without finishing, Mickey turned around and started to tug the Czech along. Refusing to let go of Mickey’s hand, Emil stumbled along, trying to keep up while dragging his heavy suitcase along.

 

“You could share a bed with me,” Mickey suggested, sounding rather nonchalant. “I know you said that you prefer to share a room with someone, as you don’t like being alone.”

 

Emil stared at his boyfriend back. Mickey’s ears had grown red, and his free hand was clutching onto his sweater. It was clear that his boyfriend wasn’t as confident as he sounded.

 

Smiling, Emil squeezed Mickey’s hand. “I would love to,” he murmurs, affection dripping off each syllable he uttered. He was definitely and utterly in love with Mickey, and he didn’t regret it one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hope to get this up earlier, but other things got in the way. My goal is to finish the story at the end of the week, but knowing my busy schedule, this might be a challenge. Anyway, already thanks a lot for sticky with me till here and I hope that you're happy with the amount of fluff I've added.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reason why this is so late? Well... I would like to blame school but...  
> As I don't either read Victuuri or Otayuri, I was running low on fanfiction to read. And then I discovered Klance three days ago... I only have watched 1 episode of Voltron and well- let's say I've been reading, _a lot._ F*ck.
> 
> Anyway. The last chapter of this story. It's somewhat of a set-up for the spin-off's/sequel's that hopefully will happen in a somewhat distant future. (Plus it somewhat wrap's it up nicely, somewhat.)

Michele rolled on his stomach, his bed groaning under the sudden change of weight. His laptop was propped on a pillow, displaying a loading screen. Emil had warned him about his shitty ass Wi-Fi connection, though Michele only had half-heartedly believed him. The hotels Emil stayed at probably had better Wi-Fi connection than the coffee café, which was abused- well, used on a daily base. 

 

Eventually, the screen loaded up and Emi’s cheerful face appeared. A small smile crossed Michele’s lips as he crawled closer to his laptop, making sure the microphone would pick up his voice.

 

“Evening!” the man said chipper. Michele could hardly believe the man’s cheer, it probably was around six in the morning in London- incredibly early for even the early-birds like Michele.

 

“Morning,” Michele returned, offering the man a small wave. “How’s London fairing?”

 

Emil chuckled and picked up his laptop. The webcam moved around for a bit before Emil settled down in a situation position, his back pressed against a headboard. “Almost like home,” the Czech aggregated his subtle British accent.  

 

Laughing, Michele buried his face into his blanket, refusing to let Emil see his flustered face. Emil was such a dork.

 

 “You’re adorable,” Emil said thoughtfully.

 

Michele looked up, glaring at his laptop screen. “I’m not _adorable,_ ” he grunted.

 

The Czech pouted. “You are,” he argued back, smiling brightly. “But there is something I wanted to ask you. So, if you don’t mind?” the man nervously bit his bottom lips, his face glowing with anticipation.

 

Michele briefly pondered, wondering about what Emil was going to ask him. A marriage proposal seemed a bit far-fetched- they haven’t been dating for _that_ long. And honestly, Michele wasn’t sure if he was ready to stay ‘yes’ yet, he hadn’t even met Emil’s parents- or had been to the man’s hometown. However, next to a possible marriage proposal, Michele couldn’t think of anything drastic questions Emil could ask.

 

“Go ahead,” Michele encourage, propping his head on his elbows. He felt almost like some teenager who was binge watching some crappy romance show on Netflix.

 

“Great!” Emil exclaimed. “So, have you noticed anything different?”

 

Confusion briefly crossed Michele’s expression. Emil hadn’t looked any different from what he had looked a few days ago. Maybe a bit more tired, but this easily could be blamed on the early mornings and late evenings.

 

"Not really," Michele admitted, raking his eyes over the screen. No, nothing seemed to be very off.

 

Emil pouted and jostled his laptop around, causing Michele's screen to grow blurry. Eventually, Emil had placed the laptop somewhere, and Michele's screen finally returned to its webcam-quality display. The new position of the laptop displayed Emil from head-to-toe. His boyfriend was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a grey-coloured headboard and old-fashioned wallpaper making up the background.

 

"What about now?" Emil asked eagerly.

 

Brows furrowed, Michele wondered how he should react. It seemed that Emil was staying in a different hotel. His previous hotel had cream-coloured walls, and these walls definitely weren't cream-coloured. But he didn't understand why his boyfriend was so gleeful about it. As far as he recalled, Michele was pretty sure Emil had been content with his shared hotel room- the Czech, after all, didn't like it to have a room all to himself.

 

"You changed hotels?" Michele answered, though it sounded more like a question than anything else.

 

Emil's smile didn't falter as he shook his head. "Nope. Though, yes, it's a different room."

 

The man was basically bouncing on the bed, an expression of genuine eagerness written all over his face.

 

"Well, enlighten me then," Michele said calmly, trying to suppress a cheeky grin.

 

A blush painted Emil's cheeks red. Ever since they had sat trough the godawful movie called 'Fifty Shades of Grey', Sara had insisted them on watching it, Michele had been teasing Emil with quoting the most awful lines of the movie. Though he didn't go as far as replacing 'holy shit' with 'holy cow', that was a step too far.

 

"You know that I'll be staying in London for a while, right?" Emil asked.

 

Michele nodded. He knew that Emil would at least be another year in London for work, as they started the auditions for the _sequel_ > of their play. And as Emil was a reoccurring character, he was stuck there for a while.

 

"Well," Emil's already bright smile grew even brighter, his eyes alive with joy. "I bought a home- two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, dining, living room, a _garden_ , everything."

 

Michele started at his boyfriend with an expression that reflected pure and utter surprise. His boyfriend had told him he was working on something secret, but Michele hadn't expected Emil to have been house hunting and _succeeding._

 

"That's- well... great? I think?" Michele pondered on how he should react. Proud? Happy? Jealous?

 

Emil hummed happily, not noticing Michele's lacklustre response. "I know- now you can spend your summer in London if you want," Emil babbled. "I mean, I know you're upset that Sara is going to Russia for the summer, and as I prefer to share a bedroom, well..." a deep blush coloured the Czech's entire face red.

 

"You want me to, you know," Michele spluttered, trying to gather his thoughts. "To live with you?"

 

The laptop started to shake when Emil nodded frantically. "Well, at least for the summer! Also, well, there is something else," the Czech nervously scratched his chin.

 

"You know that we're working on the sequel, right?" Emil asked, his voice trembling with nerves. "Well, casting will start next month, mid-June and, well..."

 

"Isignedyouup," the man mumbled in a record pace.

 

Blinking in confusion, Michele tried to make sense of Emil's string of words. "You signed me up?" he eventually asked, his voice sounding terribly timid.

 

"Yes- you and someone else. Privilege if you're part of the main cast," Michele knew there was more.

 

"Someone else?" he asked curiously. Emil wasn't stupid, and Michele perfectly knew that- the Czech had dropped the 'someone else' part on purpose.

 

Emil laid down on his stomach, his face inches away from the webcam. A somewhat forced a smile had replaced his trademark smile. "Remember the last evening we had together when we first met? When you were pretty much wasted."

 

Michele hummed, embarrassment warmed his cheeks. He still could hardly believe it that Emil had to practically _carry_ him home.

 

"Well, back in the café, there was this song playing in the background I really liked. So, I managed to find it on the Internet and let my co-workers hear it and well... they want to meet the composer of the song. The only issue is, well..." out of habit, Emil scratched his chin. "I don't know who the composer is, it was anonymous, but, you might do. Or Leo might know, he's majoring in music, right?"

 

Blank-faced, Michele nodded. He easily could add two and two together. Emil probably had promised his co-stars that he would track down the composer of that song.

 

"And you promised them you would track down the composer?" Michele asked somewhat sternly. Emil was way too kind sometimes.

 

Emil nodded excitedly. "You're willing to help me?" he asked eagerly, though it was almost a plea.

 

Smiling, unable to resist Emil's adorable expression, Michele nodded. "You're lucky that I love you."

 

Michele grew flustered almost immediately. This wasn't what he had intended to say- this was far from what he had intended to say. He never had dropped the L-word in front of Emil before, and this wasn't exactly how he had planned on doing it.

 

It seemed, however, that Michele wasn't the only one flustered. Poor Emil looked like a fish out of the water. Pupil's inflated, jaw slightly dropped, a surprised, almost shocked expression on his face.

 

"I-" Michele babbled, trying to push their conversation forwards. "I meant to say you're in luck, Leo is downstairs with Guang Hong, probably cleaning up."

 

Smooth. Ten out ten would recommend. Michele groaned and buried his face into his blanket. He was even thinking in _memes_. Or was it even a meme? Whatever, Emil had a bad influence on him.

 

Emil made a whooping noise, and a notification followed only seconds later. "Here is the link," he said cheerfully.

 

Somewhat regretting his decisions, Michele closed his laptop and crawled off his bed. He opened Skype on his tablet, and after a few seconds, Emil's face appeared, grinning brightly. He unhooked his phone and left his bedroom.

 

His feet were basically freezing off by the time Michele had entered the café. Leo was sitting at the counter, chatting away with Guang Hong who was indeed cleaning up. He received two equally surprised stares from the two students, which followed by apologies.

 

"I'm sorry, were we too loud?" Guang Hong apologised.

 

"Nah, it's fine," Michele assured them. He had grown rather fond of his co-worker and Leo. Next to the fact that they were insufferably cute and grossly in love with each other, they were pretty okay.

 

"I came here with a question, well... not exactly I," huffing at the confused stares he received, he unfolded his tablet and propped upright on the counter.

 

Emil blinked a few times, probably adjusting to the sudden change of scenery. "That was mean," he pouted playfully. "You left me in the _dark_ all this time."

 

Michele groaned the moment he realised that Emil had made a pun. This guy was such a dork.

 

"Emil has a question for... us?" Guang Hong asked confused, leaving the dished half-finished.

 

"Well, actually, for Leo. But it's nice seeing you again too!" Emil waved enthusiastically.

 

The mentioning of his name seemed to have peaked Leo's interest. The Hispanic propped his elbows on the counter and angled his head so that he could see Emil. "You've a question for me?" the man asked with interest.

 

"Yup!" Emil chimed excitedly. "You're majoring in music, right?"

 

Leo hummed in confirmation.

 

"Well, I'm looking to find the composer of a song, but even the guy who uploaded it didn't know who it was. I think you're my best shot in this case," Leo's scepticism went unnoticed to Emil.

 

It was a bit farfetched. If the song was really uncommon, Michele doubted that even the music-crazed Leo would know it. Unless, of course, it was some piece of classical music only Leo had heard about. Guang Hong had often complained that they had to learn about script-writers the Internet barely knew anything about. Some didn't even have a _Wikipedia_ page, which was saying something. So surely the same applied to music, and foremost music-composers.

 

"Well, if you could play the song I could check," Leo offered, a lazy but polite smile crossing his features. Michele finally understood why Sara had been somewhat interested in Leo. The man had a certain appeal to him, though Michele still wondered what exactly the appeal was. Not that it did matter- he wouldn't trade Emil away for any gold in the world.

 

Emil let out a cheer, and Michele opened the link Emil had to send him trough skype. A few seconds later a stripped down love-ballet sounded from the creaky speakers of Michele's phone. Michele had never heard the song before. It seemed, however, he was the only one who hadn't heard the song before.

 

Leo grew grey in the face, an expression of utter shock crossing his previous polite face. Guang Hong, on the other hand, expressed his emotions more... vocally.

 

"Where did you get that!" the barista panicked, pointing at Michele's phone.

 

The Czech blinked in surprise, obviously thrown off my the two lovers their reaction. "The Internet? YouTube? I first heard it in the café back in November. It took me ages to find it again," Emil paused briefly. "You know the composer?" he asked excitedly.

 

Michele already had a vague idea who the composer was- and he might even dare to say he knew who the singer was. Though, clearly, his boyfriend needed more time to put the pieces together.

 

"You could say that," Leo muttered, finally recovered enough to speak up. "Why do you want to know?"

 

"Well..." Emil started his explanation all over again. On how they wanted to ask the composer to help them with composing their music, especially as their own composer had bailed out on them. Emil even added something he hadn't told Michele before. "And the singer has a good voice- if he's an actor we might have a role for him, if, of course, they can, well... act. Hence why he should be an actor. "

 

Michele almost had cut off the connection right there. This was downright awkward. Emil was basically offering Michele's co-worker and his boyfriend a job opportunity, to possibly work on one of the biggest musicals this decade. It wasn't like he didn't concede the two brunets the job, it was just... Emil had mentioned the house had _two_ bedrooms. And he knew how nice his boyfriend was and how he liked the two...

 

"They sang it," Michele mumbled after a while, catching Emil off guard. "Well, Guang Hong probably sang and Leo composed- but all-in-all, they probably are the duo after this piece of work."

 

He knew immediately he had hit the nail on its head. Emil looked flabbergasted, Leo somewhat relieved and Guang Hong's face had gone blank a while ago.

 

"Well, that makes things easier," Emil excitedly clapped his hands, looking happier than anyone should be that early in the morning. "Think about it- I know it's sudden but, well..." the man made a hand gesture that made little to none sense. "Talk to you later."

 

This was Michele's cue to take his tablet and leave. After saying an awkward goodbye, Michele left the café with his tablet tucked under his arm. He definitely was disappointed- he had hoped he could spend the summer alone with Emil. Though the man hadn't said anything about inviting the two to live with him yet, Michele knew Emil well enough to know that would be the next step. And what if Guang Hong managed to score a role and he didn't? He eventually had to return home as he couldn't make any money on doing nothing. And he was too stubborn to let Emil being the only one who made money in their relationship.

 

"Are you disappointed?" Michele was startled by Emil's sudden voice. He had completely forgotten to end the Skype call.

 

"No," that was a lie.

 

"You're lying," was Emil's immediately response. "I'm sorry- but I do have my reasons!"

 

Michele briefly considered to turn off his tablet, but eventually decided to hear Emil out. "Go ahead," he muttered, starting to climb up the stairs to his shared apartment.

 

"You see, they were very excited about the composer, but as you have very little performances on your name, they were a bit sceptical of letting you audition. Therefore, I made them a deal that if I found the composer and got them to London, that they would let you audition. Guang Hong shouldn't be an issue as he studied acting, but you, well..." Emil's voice faded away.

 

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Michele pressed his forehead against the front door. He couldn't believe his boyfriend. He went to such lengths to give Michele an opportunity. What if the composer had been a jerk? Or someone unavailable? Or a _minor_? This all could throw Emil's plan into demise, yet he tried. Why? Because he wanted to give Michele an opportunity, an opportunity someone Michele shouldn't deserve.

 

"You're okay?" Emil's worried voice barely registered in his mind.

 

A broken sob slipped pass his lips when he tried to reply. "I hate you," Michele whispered, trying to control his voice.

 

"What!" Emil exclaimed, his voice filled with shock. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to-"

 

"It's fine," Michele sobbed, tears leaking from his eyes. "I just- I can't understand what I did to get such an amazing boyfriend."

 

There was a never ending pause- or at least it felt like never ending. "Are you crying?" Emil eventually asked.

 

Michele sniffed, wiping away a few tears. "Maybe," he muttered. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "I mean what I said before," he muttered, hoping that Emil didn’t hear it.

 

"That you hate me?" Emil forced out a small, broken laugh.

 

"That I love you," Michele corrected him. So, there it is. No excuses, no embarrassment. The raw truth.

 

"I love you too."

 

Taking a deep breath, Michele moved away from the door and opened it, entering his apartment. Spending some time in London might not be a bad idea. His parents have been itching to return to work, hating their retirement and it wasn't like he had to stay behind for anyone. Sara was going to Russia to spend time with Mila and, if they accepted the offer, Guang Hong and Leo would head to London too. No, London didn't exactly sound bad- especially if with London came Emil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticky with me till the end. I can't believe the support I've received for this cheesy fic- much more than I had anticipated. I'm forever grateful for the comments and likes- it was an incredible boost when I felt somewhat down- whenever it was writing-wise or something personal.
> 
> For the record, I have **not** watched or read Fifty Shades of Grey- going trough the trailer was already enough  >///<
> 
> I probably won't be writing any multi-chapter story in the distant future- at least not more than a two-shot as I struggle with commitment issues. But expect some EmiMike in the future and some Leoji as I can't live without them apparently XD. And, wait for Valentine's day. I've at least one Valentine fic planned and a few secret projects so... ~~wink wink~~


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